Debts and Regrets
by jaded79
Summary: This is a continuation of the Unexpected Allies Merle and Sophia story with a romantic focus on Daryl and Carol, and how Merle and Sophia might help those two crazy "kids" finally get over their respective issues and get together and fall in love. I've rated it T, but I want to mention that there ARE swears in this story. If you feel an M rating is more appropriate, please say so.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N – HI! So this is the first chapter in the Daryl and Carol continuation of Merle and Sophia's Unexpected Allies. If you haven't previously read Unexpected Allies, it's a 20 chapter story about Sophia NOT being in that barn back on the Greene Farm and instead coming across a stubborn and irate Merle Dixon and how their journey together while searching for the group changes them both. **

**Hope you like the first chapter! Please read and review!**

**Disclaimer - I own nothing! Please excuse any creative liberties on places, people, and things and dialogue issues. My writing is forever a work in progress as I continue to learn. **

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Chapter 1 – A Change is Going to Come

Physically, she was sitting on the passenger side of the truck bench seat – Sophia wedged in the middle between her and Merle, but mentally, she was focused on the guy on the motorcycle riding a few yards ahead of them.

Her eyes were focused on the tattered angel wings on his jacket as she absently stroked her sleeping daughter's hair. Sophia had climbed into the truck that morning without even consulting her. The little girl had just clambered in next to Merle and cast a glance at Carol like, _Are you coming or what? _

Carol wondered what all those weeks had done to her little girl. All those weeks with just Merle Dixon to look after her. She cast a surreptitious sideways glance at Merle behind the wheel. His eyes were intent on the road and he seemed content with the silence. Sophia was twisted in the seat so that she was leaning against Carol while she slept, and one of her legs was sidelong against Merle, almost as if the little girl had to be in contact with him to know he was still there. To know that she was safe.

Carol couldn't even begin to fathom what it had been like between Merle and Sophia. From all she could remember about Merle, he was a cantankerous bastard – not the sort of role model she would have picked for Sophia before the zombie apocalypse at least. When she'd first met Merle Dixon… well, her first thought – she wasn't proud of it now – was that he was like Ed. But clearly she'd been wrong. Hell, she couldn't have been more wrong.

She had no idea how she could ever repay Merle. She hadn't even broached how she was going to repay Daryl yet. And she had to repay them both. Daryl had searched for Sophia like none other… the man made it his mission while they were on that farm. Even to his own detriment. She shuddered at the idea that he could have died out there, searching for Sophia, impaled by his own arrow, and then shot by Andrea.

Andrea. She stifled a shuddering sob from deep within. Andrea was dead. She couldn't ever repay Andrea. She felt like she was racking up debts that could never be paid back. She felt so unworthy of these people. She hadn't even been able to defend herself back on the farm… let alone help Andrea. She was a burden. She was a coward. _Coward. _Ed would agree. _You stupid bitch._ His words still echoed in her mind at her darkest moments. _Burden. Whore_. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head so that it looked like she was looking out the passenger side window. Her mouth was a thin line across her face.

Her thoughts about Daryl… Ed may have been right, she was a whore. Of course, thoughts are just thoughts aren't they? And it's not like she would ever act on them. He wouldn't want her even if she did. Daryl Dixon could never want stupid, mousy, useless, coward Carol Peletier. _Burden_. The word rang in her head. She was as much a burden to him as she was to everyone else.

_You don't have to be a burden._ Those weren't Ed's words. They were her own, and they swelled up inside her from a place she had thought was long dead. Destroyed and buried by Ed's fists, by Ed's control, by Ed's words.

_Not speaking out, or killing him yourself – there's no difference. _Dale's last words to her. A tear escaped her closed eyelid and slid slowly down her cheek. Dale, the conscience of their group. The world had lost a wonderful man the night he had died.

_You can have an opinion. You matter here. _Matter to whom? She wanted to snap at herself, at this voice in her head that had been silent for so long. Her voice.

The one that had been stifled by her bastard husband – _honor and obey_, those were his words. A constant reminder that she had better listen, better do as she was told. Sophia stirred against her but didn't wake. Sophia. She mattered to Sophia.

_Whadda ya want?_ Daryl, his words now in her head. She remembered the way he'd looked at her, glared at her, beside that campfire. She didn't even know what she'd expected in talking to him there. It had been the first time they'd even spoke since he'd yelled at her at his camp back at the farm – _All ya had to do was keep an eye on 'er!_ What a conversation to warm up to, doubting Rick, questioning Daryl's allegiances. She should have just apologized… for what? For making him come back to the farm to save her. She shook her head slightly. He would have done it for anyone. Daryl was like that – a good man, a man of honor. She should have thanked him. For coming back to the farm to save her. Even if he would have done it for anyone, he did it for **her**. It might mean nothing to him, but it meant something to her. She should have thanked him for searching for Sophia.

She had been so sure Sophia had been dead. She had felt it for weeks after the search had gone stale. After that barn had been opened and all those walkers had been killed by Shane and the others. The threat had been so real in that moment, seeing them all, all those monsters who had once been people… someone's mother, someone's father, sister, brother, daughter, son… and now here she was, her daughter's head weighty and wonderful against her chest. Carol couldn't have been more wrong, and she'd never be happier about it.

And all because of Merle Dixon. And there she was again; confronted by the debts she'd never be able to pay. If a person could drown in a river of debt, she'd be flailing and gasping for breath by now. Debt and regret… the story of Carol's life.

Her only good deed was Sophia. _It doesn't have to be that way. _That voice again. Could her opinions really matter again? It had been years since she'd voiced an opinion, since she'd had a say. Was it too late to make a change? Ed has been dead and gone for more than a month, head bashed in and buried back at that quarry… couldn't she have changed sooner? Shouldn't she have changed sooner? Maybe the time for change has passed. _No. Change comes in its own time. _Change comes now.

She couldn't stay like this. She couldn't keep being this person… this burden. She had to be more. She had to be more for Sophia. _Our daughter don't need you bitch… she's gone and gotten herself a new hero… what are you gonna do anyway? You're useless. Stupid bitch. _Ed. That was Ed, in her head again. Would he never be gone? Would she never be rid of him?

She turned her head and watched Merle for a moment. He seemed oblivious to her, hadn't said a word to her since the night before when she had thanked him, and even then she wasn't sure if he'd even spoken or simply nodded. The bond between her daughter and this man… it made her happy to see. It was a friendship, a family. Somehow, it seemed to Carol, that Merle had become the father that Sophia needed, that Sophia never had. Sophia would be fine if Carol wasn't around, she was confident Merle would see to that.

But Carol wasn't going anywhere. Not if she could help it. _Shut up Ed. You don't know shit. _It felt good to think the curse. She hadn't sworn in years… when she ever dared in the past, he'd smacked the taste of the word out of her mouth before she had a chance to blink. But Ed wasn't here anymore. She didn't have to let the past control her. Now was a time for change.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N – Daryl's perspective… hope you like! Thank you so much for all your reviews! You're all awesome! It made me so happy and giddy to see so many responses to the first chapter! :) Please read and review!**

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Chapter 2 – A Man of Few Words

Daryl sat on the bike and surveyed the surrounding area. They were in too open of a location for his liking, but Rick seemed to think it was fine for now. They had driven for hours that morning and this was their afternoon break, on the side of an abandoned highway, deserted for miles and miles from what they could tell – lunch, for those of them who thought food was more important than keeping on the move.

Food was not important. Okay, it was. But not when you weren't safe first. Getting himself killed for a meal wasn't high on Daryl's to-do list. He scowled, glancing at the group milling about.

Rick was trying to get Lori to talk to him… Daryl resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Why the man even bothered, he had no idea. It was obvious the bitch was pissed and begging her to talk wasn't exactly going to help. If Rick was smart, he'd shut his mouth and give his wife the silent treatment right back. Fuck her and fuck her silent treatment. Daryl was willing to bet if Rick went a day without begging Lori for something, Lori would go crawling back begging Rick herself. She seemed just the sort to do that.

Carl was rooting after Sophia. The scene was kind of amusing to watch, not that Daryl would show the emotion on his face, but internally he couldn't help but feel a shiver of amusement. Merle was sitting on the guardrail. Sophia had started out a few feet away from him on the guardrail as well. Then Carl sat down right next to her, practically on top of her, saying something. The kid probably meant well but he was a little overzealous. Sophia had frowned when Carl sat down and then slid over kind of casually a few inches. And then Carl – not so casually – had slid over, and then Sophia again, and they kept going with Sophia sliding farther away and Carl sliding over chasing her until Sophia slid over and bumped right into Merle who almost dropped his lunch.

That was the part that surprised Daryl. The Merle he remembered would have jumped up, hollering and screaming, cussing and fussing. But this Merle just glanced over at the little girl looking up sheepishly at him, and then Merle – honest to fucking God – smiled. Daryl's own brother just smiled at Sophia like all was fucking awesome before turning his eyes on Carl and glaring. Merle might as well have shot real daggers at the boy. Merle said something to Carl that Daryl couldn't hear but whatever it was, it had to be nasty because Carl instantly backed up a few feet on the guardrail.

Daryl couldn't understand it. Merle Dixon. The Merle he remembered used to fuck his ass up for making a noise Merle didn't like. The Merle he remembered wouldn't have smiled at a little girl for bumping into him. When Daryl was a kid, if he bumped into Merle on accident, his hide would've been tanned for it and he wouldn't have sat down again for hours. But Sophia gets a smile. Strangest thing Daryl had ever seen.

Daryl was shaking his head at the scene when a sudden sound behind him made him whirl around.

"Sorry," Carol mumbled looking down when he faced her.

"S'okay," Daryl shrugged, playing it off. It wasn't often he was startled but the woman's footsteps were nearly as quiet as his. Any quieter and he wouldn't have known she was there until she was right on him.

"I brought you some lunch." She held out her hands to him, offering him something on a plate.

There was a granola bar and a sandwich on the plate. "Where'd we git plates and all this shit?," Daryl muttered, his tone more irritated than he'd intended.

"I grabbed some stuff… when the herd came through… had a bag for it." Her voice was soft, her words unsteady. He wasn't used to women who spoke so softly, who kept their eyes averted, head down in such a way that kept their throats from being bared. It was a protective mechanism, and one he knew well. He wasn't used to women who behaved like him. That was the problem with Carol, he thought. He saw something in her, something of himself. Some damaged, broken, shattered piece of her, that made her different from the others, but somehow the same as him.

Of course, he had made himself stronger in response to his brokenness. He forced himself to learn to survive, to be on his own… he was his own fortress, his own island, all Daryl needed was Daryl. Carol was meek, weak, and reliant. He wasn't sure though if Carol needed people to take care of her as much as she needed people to take care of. As much as she had called herself a burden the night before, she was more often than not carrying the burdens of everyone else – laundry, cooking, cleaning – as far as he could ever tell. He narrowed his eyes at her.

"It's not a lot and it won't taste as good as anything you can catch and cook, I'm sure," Carol said softly, "but you should eat something."

Daryl exhaled. How this woman could make him feel like such a shitheel, he had no idea. She kept her eyes down as she extended her hand again, offering the plate. He shook his head to himself, knowing she wasn't looking at him anyway. Then he reached for the plate, and as he touched the plate, one of his fingers brushed against hers. He felt a spark as their skin met; like his body was a still pond and someone dropped a pebble into it. The spark of their touch sent a ripple up his arm, through his chest up his neck and out the top of his head, and down through his chest down through his body and out his toes, through the other arm and out the fingers that rested on the bike body. His whole body felt the ripple effect.

Maybe she didn't feel it, the ripple, maybe it was the fact that his hand lingered there, finger grazing her own, not quite taking the plate, but not quite drawing away either; but for whatever reason, when he glanced up she was looking at him. Their eyes met briefly and he closed his fingers around the plate, taking it from her.

It might have been his imagination but her face seemed to flush under his gaze and her eyes – clear blue as they were – seemed to darken somewhat.

He nodded his thanks, withdrawing his hand and the plate with it into his body, putting an unbridgeable gap between them again.

Carol nodded back and turned away. He had taken the sandwich and was just biting into it when she stopped in her retreat and turned slightly to look back at him. "Thank you," she said suddenly causing him to look up at her, his teeth sinking into the soft white bread, tasting the sticky saltiness of the peanut butter inside.

He chewed, unable to ask the question that formed in response to her words. The peanut butter and a sudden dryness in his mouth both working against him. His brow furrowed.

"For coming back," she said before tilting her head at him, her face earnest. "For me, I mean. For coming back for me. Thank you, Daryl." Her mouth hung open a second more, as if there was something else, but she seemed to change her mind about it. She closed her mouth and smiled a slight, close-lipped smile at him. A very Carol smile in his opinion. Then she nodded and before he could force himself to swallow the lump of congealed swill in his mouth, she turned and hastily moved away from him.

_Shitheel_, he thought to himself – about himself – as he watched her retreat. The lump of chewed up peanut butter and bread went down his throat roughly as he forced a hard swallow, forcing it down.

He cleared his throat and took another bite before glancing back toward the guardrail where he'd been looking before. His eyes met Merle's. Merle's gaze was intent on him, and Daryl idly wondered before averting his eyes how long Merle had been watching.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N - Thank you for the reviews everyone! Sorry for the short author's notes and I promise to get some personalized thank you's out to everyone soon. I've been so swamped but I can't help writing this and getting it up as fast as a I can. Hope you like!**

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Chapter 3 – Being There is as Easy as Being There

Merle never imagined a life for himself where he wasn't on drugs. It occurred to him when he woke up – his body stiff and sore from sleeping in an almost sitting up position – that he hadn't used since Atlanta. And even more interesting was that somewhere in between finding Sophia and reuniting with the group again, he'd stopped even wanting to use. That was his first thought upon waking. His second thought was about Sophia and where she was.

He knew yesterday was a tough day. They'd spent the day in the truck – him, 'Phia, and her momma. The group had trekked for a whole day, only stopping once for lunch; they'd driven through a couple rough patches with geeks, until they found an abandoned storage yard. It was fully fenced and secure so they'd stopped there for the night. There'd been no discussion as to how long they'd stay but for the night at least it was a place to sleep.

He'd chosen an empty storage bay to sleep in – a veritable tin can as far as he was concerned – and he'd just nodded to it when he'd caught Sophia's eye. He thought her momma, Carol, seemed a little reluctant but she didn't argue.

Daryl had slept outside the bay. Daryl was especially closemouthed these days. Merle wasn't quite sure if Daryl was always that closemouthed or if it was just that Merle had gotten so used to Sophia's ramblings that everyone seemed closemouthed in comparison. He wondered if Daryl felt uncomfortable being around him with the group. It was clear that Daryl had earned a position of trust within the group; a position that simply wasn't ever going to be available for Merle.

Merle was more aware than ever in his life that he'd failed as a brother. His regrets when it came to Daryl seemed to multiply with each passing moment. He'd been a shit brother, and he'd probably never have even known it if it weren't for Sophia. For Sophia and everything she had taught him, showed him. But he wasn't good at apologies and even if he were, he was sure Daryl wasn't any good at accepting them.

When they'd been hunkering down for the night, Daryl had dropped his stuff at the doorway to the bay Merle had chosen, and slid down the sturdy wall to sit on the concrete just outside the entrance.

"Yer ass sleepin' out 'ere?," Merle had said as he stepped out of the bay leaving Sophia alone inside.

Carol had walked up then, her stuff in hand and she'd nodded to Merle, her eyes flickering only briefly to Daryl before stepping inside.

Merle hadn't missed the sharp intake of breath when Daryl had seen her, and the slow exhale after she was inside.

"Someone's gotta keep watch," Daryl had muttered, looking away from Merle to stare off into the darkness and effectively cutting off the conversation.

The longer Merle thought about it after he'd gone inside to sleep, the more Merle had decided that Daryl's sleeping outside wasn't about keeping watch, and it wasn't about avoiding Merle… it was about avoiding the woman sleeping inside the bay. And Merle wasn't referring to Sophia.

Merle thought back to the lunch break on the road. He thought back to the exchange he'd seen between Carol and Daryl when she'd brought him his lunch. Daryl had been all surly and awkward. He remembered the way Daryl's hand had lingered when he'd reached for the plate, the long pause when the two had just stood there, seemingly unable to move. He remembered the look on Daryl's face after she'd left… they'd been just far enough away that Merle couldn't hear what she'd said to Daryl, but whatever it was, it had affected Merle's baby brother.

So Merle woke, uncomfortable with his sleeping arrangement, in the middle of the night, thinking about the fact that he hadn't popped a pill in what felt like forever, and that he hardly cared if he ever popped a pill again in his lifetime. And then he thought about Sophia. He'd never had a relationship with a woman long enough to consider the possibilities of what normal people considered – marriage, white picket fence, children, blah blah blah. And he'd never in a million years thought he'd have to be a parent to anything or anyone. He'd been a parent to Daryl and look how well he'd fucked that shit up.

But Sophia was different. She hadn't asked for him, and he sure as shit hadn't asked for her. But he'd be damned if he'd let her go now. He was grateful that Carol didn't seem to mind. Or at least, if she did mind, she was too damn gracious to say anything about it.

He shifted his position so that he was sitting up better against the metal wall and saw Sophia lying on her stomach, facing him, just a foot or two away from where he was, her knees bent, feet in the air, kind of kicking back and forth. She smiled when she saw he was awake.

"Hi Merle," she whispered.

He glanced over not far from Sophia to see Carol still asleep.

"What're ya doin'?," he asked, patting the floor next to him.

Sophia sat up and scooted her way over to him so that they sat side-by-side. "Bored," she said with a shrug.

"Git ya a book later?," he said, "gonn' need a run anyway… need some kinda fuckin supplies if we stayin'."

Sophia bit her lip and nodded.

"Wha' kinda book ya want?"

She made an I-don't-know face, and leaned against him so that her head was on his shoulder. "It's still dark out," she said softly.

"Cause yer ass should still be sleepin'."

"Not tired," Sophia said and then yawned.

"Can see that," Merle smiled. "Close yer eyes… be mornin' before ya knows it."

She seemed to nod her head slightly against him, leaned a little harder against him and he glanced over to see her eyes were shut.

"I like horses," her voice was soft.

"Yea?"

"Yea… horses… maybe a book… about a horse…"

"Sure, 'Phia, wha'ever ya want," his voice was low and he tilted his head slightly so that it touched hers and let his eyes close again.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N – I'm just so excited about this story that I can't stop writing. Gee, I hope you don't mind! LOL. Hope you like this chapter. I figured it'd be nice to get Sophia's perspective as well. I greatly appreciate the reviews! You are all awesome and I love everything you've said so far! Please read and review! It means so much to me when I hear from you. **

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Chapter 4 – Put a Smile on Your Face

"I hate to say the words 'I agree with Merle' but I agree with Merle," Rick said.

Sophia watched Merle smirk at Rick's words and she bit back the smile on her face. It was early in the morning, the first day on the storage yard. Her mom had gone off with Carl's mom to figure out something for breakfast. She sat with Carl off to the side of the group, mostly keeping out of the way but wanting to be in the know about everything.

It had been Merle's suggestion that they do a run into town to get supplies. The storage yard was a decent place to regroup and stay a few nights, but they needed supplies. The group had left most of their stuff back at some farm, and all Merle and Sophia had was what they had in their bags and on their backs the night they found the group.

"My dad will probably let me go with them," Carl remarked, a little too arrogantly for her taste, and she glanced over at him. "But you can't go because you're a girl."

Sophia rolled her eyes. "You're full of shit, Carl," she said acidly and his eyes widened. "Your dad won't let you go and you know it."

Carl sighed, looked down and said softly, "if Shane were here, he'd let me go."

"Well Shane isn't here," Sophia said. Carl frowned, picking at the skin on his arm and Sophia sighed. "Sorry," she said, feeling somewhat badly about snapping at the boy. "You know, you shouldn't make fun of me because I'm a girl… girls are good at stuff too. And I've killed a walker."

"I've killed a walker," Carl said, still not looking up at her, and then he made a face… "I shot Shane."

Sophia's mouth formed an 'o' but she didn't speak and then she grimaced. "I'm sorry, Carl."

Carl looked up at her, "did you really say 'shit' before?"

Sophia smiled. "Hell yea I did."

Breakfast was nothing special, but it felt good to have her mom around again. Sophia accepted the bowl of canned peaches that Carol offered and she slurped them up. Merle had gone off somewhere with his food, and Sophia intended to find him once she was finished. Some of them were going off into town to get supplies and everyone was working on the list of what they absolutely needed.

She swallowed the last peach in her dish and then stood up to find the kitchen where she was sure her mom was.

She stopped in the hallway outside the kitchen when she heard the voices.

"It was cute, you know, they were sleeping against the wall. She was all curled up into him and fast asleep when I woke up," Carol said as she repackaged any food the group hadn't eaten so it wouldn't go to waste.

Daryl stood against the wall, eating the last bite of something and then licking his fingers clean. He grunted in response to Carol's words and Sophia wondered if he ever spoke. She made a mental note to ask Merle about it later.

Carol must have stopped what she was doing because the room was suddenly quiet and Sophia stepped forward, balanced on her tiptoes and leaned along the wall, fingers on the doorjamb, so she could peer inside. Carol turned around to face Daryl, a dish towel in her hands.

Carol smiled and Sophia saw the sparkle in her mother's eyes. She felt herself smile at the look on her mom's face. Her mom looked so pretty. Sophia had gotten so used to seeing her mom frown while Ed had been around that she'd forgotten how beautiful her mother could be with a smile on her face.

"You have some chocolate on your face there, Daryl," Carol said.

Daryl dragged the back of his hand across the side of his mouth, his eyes slightly hooded as he stood there facing Carol. It seemed to Sophia that he was trying not to look her mom in the eye; his eyes kept flickering to Carol's face and then away.

Carol took a step forward toward Daryl, smiling and shaking her head. "It's still there." Her voice was soft as she stopped in front of Daryl and slowly raised her hand, the free one, not the one holding the towel. Before Daryl could move, before he could even blink, Carol's thumb stopped at his cheek and she wiped the remnants of whatever he'd been eating away. Her thumb gently swiped across the skin of his cheek, grazing the corner of his mouth and his bottom lip before she pulled away.

Their eyes had met in the act of her touching him and they seemed stuck in that moment for a second. Sophia leaned a little farther so that she could see inside better and then her foot slipped on the linoleum floor and sent up a small screech as the rubber of her shoe sole protested against the floor. The sound seemed to alert Daryl and Carol to someone's presence nearby and Carol stepped back, moving away from Daryl and his eyes shifted away from her.

Without another word, Daryl gave Carol a nod and turned away, moving hastily to the door. Sophia scrambled a few steps back so that it didn't look like she'd been standing there watching the whole time, but she wasn't sure he was convinced as he passed her. Daryl met her eyes and he gave a slight smile, surprising her.

"Morning, Mr. Dixon," Sophia said, trying to be polite.

"Daryl," he corrected and Sophia smiled. He gave her nod and moved past her down the hallway.

When Sophia turned into the kitchen, her mother's back was to her and Carol was leaning with both palms flat on the counter, shaking her head. Sophia wondered what her mother was thinking, why she was shaking her head, but all she said was, "hey, mom…"

Carol turned, her eyes seemed wet but she was smiling. "Hi sweetheart, what do you need?"

Sophia opened her mouth and what she wanted to ask was something about what she'd just seen in the kitchen between Daryl and her mom. But instead, she said, "Beth and Maggie said earlier I should ask you if Carl and I can go outside with them for a little bit. Just inside the fence though."

Carol nodded. "As long as someone's with you, sure. You can't go by yourselves though."

Sophia smiled. "Great. Thanks." She turned but her mom's voice stopped her at the doorway.

"I'm going to see about water and soap for laundry… can I wash your clothes, sweetie?"

Sophia looked over her shoulder. "Yes please… do you think…," she stopped.

Carol tilted her head at her daughter. "What, honey?"

"Can you wash Merle's stuff too? We got pretty grubby in the woods."

Carol smiled. "Of course, I'd be happy to."

Sophia scurried to her mother and wrapped her arms around her. "I missed you so much, mom."

Carol's arms were tight around Sophia and she whispered softly to her daughter, "Me too, sweetie. I don't know what I'd have done if I'd truly lost you."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N – This is the last chapter I have fully prepared so my next update may not be for a day or two. Hope you like! Thank you again for the reviews. You are all awesome and I love everything you've said. It just means so much that you are all still reading my stuff and that you're enjoying this fic so far. Please read and review!**

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Chapter 5 – The Laundry Confessional

"I'm gonn' get 'Phia a book in town today."

Carol turned to see Merle standing there at the doorway to the room where she was washing clothes. The accommodations for sleeping at the storage yard were certainly not comfortable but at least they'd been lucky enough to find it still had running water – albeit cold only – and she was taking the opportunity to get the clothes cleaned while she could.

She'd been doing the wash for about thirty minutes and she'd been deep in thought the whole time. So deep in thought, she hadn't even heard Merle approach. Her mind was hung up on her interaction with Daryl in the kitchen that morning. He'd come in to give her his plate from breakfast and she'd offered him half of the chocolate bar she'd found deep in her purse. The chocolate had been stale but still sweet. Her thoughts had strayed to the feel of his soft bottom lip on the pad of her thumb as she'd swiped the stray chocolate off his face.

The way his eyes had blazed at her as they held the contact for a second too long. She'd thought for a moment there that he'd felt it too, the connection between them that she had felt since that night in the RV when she'd been sobbing for Sophia and he'd gone out to walk the woods. She felt a fool though for even thinking about it, for the thoughts that had invaded her head when she'd brushed her thumb across his lips, thoughts about kissing him… a man like that could never want a woman like her. She'd probably imagined the whole thing – eyes blazing, right… blazing only in her head, she was sure.

"'Phia," she repeated, trying the word out on her tongue as she looked at Merle as he entered the room. She smiled, it suited her daughter. "Sure," she said, nodding to Merle.

He shifted; he seemed awkward and uncomfortable. "She likes horses?," he asked.

Carol kept her hands still submerged in the sink full of water, soap and clothes. She scrubbed a bit but kept her body twisted so that she was looking at Merle. "Yes, horses. She was reading The Saddle Club series for awhile, but really she'll read anything that has to do with an animal… horses, dogs, I think she read a book about a fox once."

Merle nodded. "Uh… ya seen my… my… uh… my drawers?" He seemed very uncomfortable to be asking the question and she wondered why. Merle Dixon didn't strike her as a man who got uncomfortable about much.

"Uh, yea, I'm washing them," she said smiling, her grin a little too broad. "In this sink here."

He nodded and she turned back to her wash. She was scrubbing for a few moments before she felt the shadow fall across her and realized he was still there, that he had in fact moved further into the room and was standing about a foot away from her.

"Something you need, Merle?," she asked without turning around.

"Ya been without a man for awhile, ain't ya?" His voice was low, hesitant.

She dropped the article of clothing she'd been scrubbing and turned. "Excuse me?"

He glanced back toward the doorway and then turned back to her, but kept his head down, his eyes a little averted.

"A man," he said again, clearing his throat and seeming to find whatever gumption it was that drove him to ask the question. He looked up, his eyes locked with hers. "Jus' askin'… ya been alone for awhile?"

"Are you flirting with me, Merle?," Carol said without thinking. She didn't know where she got the nerve to say it; it just flew out of her mouth.

Merle seemed taken aback but he recovered quickly. "Uh… wha' if I was? Ya be in'erested?"

Carol smiled. "Flattered perhaps, Merle… but I'm sorry, no," she said the words softly, delicately. "I really appreciate you being there for Sophia and still being here for Sophia. You obviously mean the world to her, and I don't want that to change. But I… I can't really think about you… in that way." She held up her soapy hands. "No offense."

Merle snorted. "Yer in'erested in someone else is what ya sayin'… hey, I get it."

Carol tilted her head and surveyed Merle's face a little too intently. She felt like she was missing something. She hardly knew Merle. It didn't make sense that he'd come in here assuming she might be interested in him. And what did he care if she was interested in someone else? Was she interested in someone else? _You know you are_, that voice deep in her head responded and she felt her stomach flip at the memory of her thumb on Daryl's soft lower lip.

"What are you driving at?," she said.

Merle shook his head. "Ain't drivin' nothing… jus' tryin' to learn more bout 'Phia's momma."

Carol bit the inside of her lip. "She thinks of you like a father, you know."

Merle scowled, but something in his eye twinkled when she said it.

Carol wiped a hand on her pant leg and touched Merle's arm. "It's a good thing," she said. "I'm glad she thinks of you like that. She could do… well, she has done a lot worse."

"Girl means a lot to me," Merle said, his voice quiet as he spoke.

Carol smiled. "See, that makes us family."

Merle cracked a grin at her. "That why ya ain't in'erested in my ass?"

Carol laughed and before she could stop herself she leaned forward and hugged him. To her surprise, Merle put an awkward arm around her back and hugged her as well. She pulled back to the sound of someone clearing their throat.

They both turned to see Daryl in the doorway, a dark cloud above his head as he brooded at them. His eyes met hers and Carol felt a shiver go down her back at his gaze. He seemed to scowl harder as his eyes left hers and went to Merle.

"Comin' or what?," his tone was disdainful.

Merle smiled at Carol, half-shrugged. "A book bout some kinda critter… horses, dogs, or foxes."

Carol nodded at Merle, half-smiled at him under Daryl's glowering gaze on her face and said, "that's right."

Merle left the room first and Daryl was still facing her.

"What is it, Daryl?," she said. She turned back to the sink and put her hands in the water but she could still feel his angry glare boring holes into her back.

"Yer too fuckin trusting. Ya don't know 'im… ya don't know me. Ya can't be all huggin' 'im and shit."

She glanced over her shoulder quickly. "You know, Daryl… maybe it's you who doesn't know him," she paused, turning her head back and putting her focus on the sink full of laundry. "And I do too know you."

He had moved closer to her before she realized and suddenly he was right beside her, his hands on the side of the sink. "What 'xactly ya think you know?," he sneered.

She didn't look up at him at first, scrubbing with her hands down in the water. And then she cocked her head to the side and met his eyes. "Daryl Dixon – likes sleeveless shirts, catches squirrels, carries a crossbow like it's an extension of his own arm, hates frozen peas, loves chocolate, wears boxers even the ones with holes in them, stubborn as shit and thinks he's some kind of rock-solid hardass with no feelings at all, when really all he wants is for someone to tell him he's worth a damn."

Daryl sucked in a breath, but Carol wasn't done; she wasn't backing down.

"You **are** a good man, Daryl. And you **are** worth a damn. You're worth more than damn well almost anyone I've ever met. I know that for certain and I don't give a shit what you think about the matter." Her hands were shaking in the water, but she kept her eyes locked on his until suddenly he whirled away from her and fled the room. As he reached the doorway, she said softly but loud enough for him to hear, "and I'll hug whoever the hell I want."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N – Another double whammy day… :) I just love your reviews so much that I can't stop writing. Hope you like! Thank you, thank you, thank you for all of your reviews and kind words! I'm hoping you'll all like this chapter even though it has some hard stuff to grasp in it. Just remember that sometimes even heroes are flawed.**

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Chapter 6 – Flawed Choices and Checkered Pasts

Daryl was pissed and he was pretty sure everyone in the truck knew it. T-Dog was driving with Glenn in the front seat, and Daryl and Merle in the back. He didn't even understand why Merle was here. It's not like it was solely Merle's idea to go on this run; he may have brought it up first but they were all fucking thinking it.

He'd gone to find Carol to ask if she needed anything special in town. He was still feeling like a shit for everything he'd done and said to her over the last few days – blaming her for losing Sophia, really unleashing on her when he should have been unleashing on himself instead, letting her call herself a burden, and the myriad of other crap he was sure he'd put her through. He wasn't one for apologies; she'd been fortunate enough to get one from him that day he called her a stupid bitch in Hershel's barn. He wasn't going to apologize again, even if he did think she probably deserved another one.

So he'd figured he could just make an effort. He wasn't a big talker, he knew that. He wasn't big on feelings and all that crap. And he sure as shit hadn't known what to say to her when she'd touched him in the kitchen, her thumb lingering just a second too long on his bottom lip. He'd run like a scared, little bitch after she'd done that.

But he figured he could get her stuff from town if she needed it, and maybe that could be enough. Maybe that would have to be enough. He felt like he was too fucked up to offer her anything more than that. But then he'd found her and she'd been hugging his brother. Hugging Merle Dixon like he was some kind of hero or something.

Daryl didn't know much about people, but he sure as shit knew that Merle Dixon was no one's hero.

Merle?… Merle Dixon?… Merle Dixon! The same Merle Dixon that used to beat Daryl's ass for getting up in the middle of the night to pee and walking in on Merle and some bar skank getting it on in the bathroom. That same Merle Dixon?

The same Merle Dixon that used to get piss drunk and higher than a kite on whatever the fuck he could find and come home when Daryl was doing his homework wanting to play 'ashtray'. Any guesses on who the ashtray was? Absently, Daryl's hand went to his shoulder and felt for the ridged and puckered circular scars on his shoulder and back.

The Merle Dixon who got sent up to prison and left Daryl to fend himself for months at a time. He shuddered at the memory of when he was lost in the woods, alone, no one giving a fuck where he was or if he made it home alive, the memory he'd mentioned to Andrea that drove him forward in his quest to find Sophia…

And that was the kicker! Daryl had been certain he'd find Sophia. He was going to find that little girl for her mom – for Carol – and he was going to matter. He was going to make himself matter by finding that little girl. And FUCK. Merle finds her! And suddenly Merle's found God or whatever the fuck his piece of trash brother had to find to become a new man and become some kind of hero to that little girl.

Daryl cast a sideways glance at Merle sitting beside him. His brother wasn't a piece of trash. He was just pissed and it was hard to see past the anger. Merle hadn't been all bad. They'd had plenty of bad moments… but that wasn't all Merle's doing. Daryl couldn't pin all his scars on Merle – some were his own making, and some were his Pa's making. Daryl knew that in whatever way, Merle had done the best he could for Daryl. Daryl could remember the beatings that Merle took from Pa, just to protect Daryl… just to keep Pa from turning his fists to Daryl.

But he was just so damn mad. And at what? For what? Carol. He was pissed that Merle had been hugging Carol. Who the fuck did Merle think he was?

And damn Carol for being so damn trusting… so damn fucking good. Didn't she knew that some people are trash and she should just fucking stay away from them? Hadn't her bastard husband taught her anything? Now Daryl's anger bubbled up from a new place. From the place that he kept buried…a place bubbling with anger fueled by his own shame, his own regret… the place that remembered the night he saw Ed give Carol a beating.

He'd walked away. Daryl still hated himself for that moment. He couldn't even look Carol in the eye for that moment and she didn't even know about it. It was before Merle had gotten left in Atlanta… he'd seen Ed give Carol a what-for in the woods beside camp. Daryl had just been getting back from hunting and he'd heard yelling, and then a yelp. He'd stood there and he'd seen that fucking coward bastard of a man with his hands on Carol's arm, shaking her, and then a backhand to the face, followed by another, and then another. He'd watched the scene for a moment as Ed laid into her and she hadn't made a sound after the one yelp; she'd just taken it. And Daryl had walked away.

He'd told himself it wasn't his business. He told himself that Merle would have his hide if he got any more involved with them fuckers they were running with – Shane, Dale, Morales and the rest of them… Merle hadn't liked the group idea from the get go. So he'd walked away. And he'd hated himself for it ever since.

What kind of man walks away from that?

"_You are a good man." _Carol's words… what does she know? She wouldn't think that if she knew… if she knew Daryl… if she knew what he'd done. He'd walked away. He wasn't a good man. He was a shit… a useless piece of garbage, just like Pa had always said.

"_The one that ain't mine." _That's what Pa had always said about Daryl. _"Useless Piece-a fuckin garbage, the one that ain't mine." _The old man knew damn well Daryl was his, even if he never would acknowledge it… even on his fucking death bed the old man had been calling for 'the one that ain't mine' to get him another bottle of gin.

Daryl Dixon – the useless, piece of shit no one – Pa, Merle, even the mother he barely even remembered had died and left him – ever wanted, no one ever cared about. He'd been told his whole life what kind of man he was, what he was supposed to be, what he was supposed to do. And the first time the words 'a good man' were ever directed at him, they had been from Carol, in that tiny bedroom at the Greene Farm where he'd been too stupid, too fucking damaged not to flinch when she bent to kiss his forehead.

_A good man… a fuckin joke's more like it. _Aside from giving her that Cherokee Rose and walking in the woods a few times calling out for Sophia, all he'd ever done for Carol was give her grief… calling her names when she told him she couldn't lose him too, running away when he knew she needed him to stay, screaming at her, blaming her for shit that wasn't her fault… He couldn't understand how she could possibly see any shred of good in him. _Ain't no fuckin' good 'ere… useless piece-a shits ain't good for nothin', ain't good for nobody… _He'd walked away. _I jus' walked away. _

Finding Sophia was supposed to be his salvation… his saving grace… the one good thing he could do for her… and he hadn't even been the one to do that. He gritted his teeth and cast another glance at his brother sitting beside him.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N – Just a warning that I'm not expecting to get another chapter up until next week. I'll certainly give it a shot, but I'm not sure I'll have the time to write over the next couple of days. Until then, thank you so much for reading and for reviewing and I hope you like this chapter. :) Please read and review! **

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Chapter 7 – Brotherly Love

It was the second time Daryl had bumped into him and Merle took a ragged breath. He was trying to keep his cool, but frankly the concept of keeping cool was getting old real fast the more Daryl kept needling him. They'd been lucky enough to get into town pretty easy and so far were geek free about it. Glenn and T-Dog were getting supplies from a store and Daryl and Merle were loading up.

Daryl had been silent the whole trip, but Merle had caught him sneaking glances over in Merle's direction. His brother was clearly pissed over something and Merle had a suspicion what it might be.

He'd done it intentionally… well, not the hug. But the going to see Carol, he'd done that intentionally. He'd needed to feel her out, for one. Merle was sure that Daryl had some kind of feelings for the woman, even Daryl himself wasn't good at knowing or showing what those feelings might be. And Merle needed to know if Carol might reciprocate for his baby brother. She'd flushed when he'd mentioned that she was interested in someone else.

He'd seen the flush of pink that lit up her cheekbones and the way her eyes had widened at the thought. She was interested… Merle was sure. He'd stake his own life on the fact that she'd thought of Daryl the moment he'd mentioned her being interested in somebody.

And for two… he'd gone to see Carol because he'd needed some drawers. He'd gone to get a clean pair of underwear to find his bag mostly empty of all his clothes. He wasn't sure what possessed Carol to wash his laundry but he'd been surprised by it. Of course, the fact that she was washing his clothes meant that he'd had to go without some necessary undergarments, but the chafing right now wasn't too bad and he figured he'd be alright through the day.

Daryl turned again in the street to put something into the truck and put his shoulder to Merle again, knocking his brother back a step. The box and its contents that Merle had been balancing with his hand and his hip clattered to the pavement with a thud.

"The fuck is yer problem," Merle snapped. Daryl stopped dead in his tracks and glared at Merle.

"Jus' stay the fuck outta my way."

Merle snorted. "Yer way? How the fuck am I in yer way? It's yer stupid ass who keeps smashin' into me. Wha' fuckin bug crawled up yer ass and died?"

Daryl stalked up to Merle and shoved with both hands so that Merle tripped backward a few steps. "Yer my fuckin problem!," Daryl growled, standing there, fists clenched and glaring.

Merle caught his balance and smirked at Daryl. "Ya some kinda tough man now, baby brother?" The words were a sneer and even as he spoke them, Merle knew he shouldn't have. This wasn't the way his confrontation with Daryl should have gone. This wasn't what Merle had had in mind at all. He sighed, shook his head. "I ain't gonn' fight ya, Daryl." He turned his back to get the box that had fallen to the ground.

"I ain't askin'," Daryl muttered as he advanced on Merle and cold-cocked him in the back of the head.

Merle spun and swung at the same time, connecting with Daryl's jaw. And then it was a tangled mash of swinging arms as the two went at each other, grappling for control of the situation.

Even with only one fist, Merle still held his own. He took a beating at one point as Daryl straddled him, punching with both fists and then Merle got control and rolled Daryl over onto his backside and punched his brother square in the face. It was then that he heard the click of a safety and felt the cold hard metal press to the back of his head.

"Hands on your head, motherfucker…" It was a woman's voice and Merle went to turn his head, but the gun was pushed harder into his skull. "I said…"

"I fuckin heard ya," Merle growled. Daryl was smirking below him and Merle wondered what the fucker had to smirk about.

As Merle put his hands to his head, a woman – a different one from the one holding gun to his head – stepped into view to his side. It was a tall dark woman holding what he could only think of as a sword. She was chained between two geeks, but they weren't a threat… they had no jaws and no arms from what Merle could tell peripherally.

"Get up," the woman with the gun said and Merle rocked back on his heels to push himself up and off of Daryl.

It was then that Merle turned around to face her and he seemed to recognize her at the same time that she did.

"Merle?," Andrea said. She put a hand on her hip and smirked. "It seems like every time I see you, you're starting shit with somebody. You know, you've gotta go along to get along sometimes, Merle."

Merle might have laughed if she didn't have the gun pointed to his head. "Git yer eyes checked, lady, it was him who started wit' me."

Andrea glanced between Daryl and Merle. "Somehow, I highly doubt that… If I remember correctly you went all batshit crazy, racist, redneck up on that rooftop and I wouldn't put it past you to be attacking your own brother."

Merle huffed and looked at Daryl, "Ya gonna let 'er shoot me, shit-for-brains? I'm yer fuckin brother."

Daryl sighed. "No, dumbass, I ain't gonna let 'er shoot ya…," he said before looking back at Andrea. "It's a'right. Jus' a lil' argument… but I had it handled."

Merle snorted. "Like hell ya did. I was kickin' yer scrawny ass." Daryl's eyes narrowed and Merle saw him clench a fist.

Andrea sighed loudly, moving in between the two men. "Can you shut up, Merle? And does it really matter who was winning?," she turned her attention to Daryl, "Why the hell were you fighting? And what the hell are you doing here? Where's everyone else? Did you all make it out of Hershel's?"

"Andrea!" Merle turned his head to see Glenn exiting the store with T-Dog. Glenn called out again, "Andrea! Where'd you come from?"

"We thought you was dead, girl!," T-Dog hollered loudly as the two men started running over.

Andrea grinned. "Finally… at least someone cares that I'm here," she muttered under her breath before running over and meeting Glenn and T-Dog halfway. Merle watched her hug Glenn and then T-Dog, who picked her up in the air and twirled her around. He caught the eye of the other woman, the one with the geeks, and gave her a curt nod as she moved past toward Andrea.

"This ain't finished," Daryl mumbled as he stalked past Merle, grabbed the box that Merle had dropped earlier and shoved it in the vehicle.

_Never is, baby brother, never is… _


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N – A short update but I wanted to get something out there. I just want to point out that I'm purposely focusing on the main characters to the story here (Daryl, Carol, Merle, and Sophia) and not on the background stuff. I'll involve the others peripherally, but the focus isn't on them – that's why I haven't really gone into much detail with Andrea and Michonne yet, but don't worry, I'll get to that. I'm also not as overly concerned with where the group is going physically and how they get there, as I am on where the characters are going emotionally. **

**Hope you like! Thank you for the reviews! I do plan to thank everyone personally but I've been so swamped with stuff that I haven't had the chance yet. Please read and review!**

**Disclaimer – I own nothing. **

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Chapter 8 – A Plan in the Making

Sophia watched as they drove back into the storage yard, noting that there was one more car than there had been when they'd left.

"Come on," she said to Carl as she stood up to go find out what was going on. He followed, she'd known he would. He followed her around like a puppy. She didn't hate it, but it was getting a little annoying.

She reached the entrance of the building at the same time that they were coming in. Daryl entered first, head down, carrying supplies and stalking off angrily. Sophia turned her head to watch him go and then looked back to see T-Dog and Glenn followed by a woman she didn't know with long dark hair done up in braids, and then one she did – Amy's sister, Andrea. She opened her mouth to say something to Carl standing next to her but closed it upon Merle's entrance.

Merle had a split lip and a grim expression. He kept his eyes down and didn't look at her as he went off in the opposite direction from the way Daryl had gone.

"I'll be back," she said to Carl and went to move off in the direction that Merle had gone.

"I think you should just stay here," Carl said.

She pivoted to look at him, raising an eyebrow at him. Her expression spoke volumes, more so than any words she could have voiced in that moment.

Carl ducked his head and held up a hand, conceding, "fine, go then."

She hurried off after Merle. She found him in the bathroom with the door open, looking at himself in the mirror, a towel held to his lip.

"What happened?" Her footsteps had been soft on her approach but he wasn't startled when she spoke. She wondered if she'd ever be able to sneak up on him.

He didn't look at her, just dropped his hand and the towel down to rest on the counter and stared at himself in the mirror. He shook his head. He didn't want to talk.

She didn't care. "What happened?," she repeated. She took a step so that she could see him better in the reflection of the mirror and caught his eye that way.

He averted his gaze. "Nothin."

"Bullshit."

His eyes met hers in the mirror again and he gave her an amused expression.

"Ya kiss yer momma with a mouth like that?"

Sophia grinned. "What happened?"

He sighed, turned to look at her. "Daryl."

"Daryl did that? Why?" Merle shrugged but she didn't buy it. She narrowed her eyes. She recalled the conversations they'd had about him and Daryl. "I thought you wanted to make things right with him?"

Merle pursed his lips to the side and shrugged, "guess he had other plans."

"You mean you gave up," Sophia said.

"Fuck, 'Phia… give me a break would ya?" His voice was frustrated but not angry. He moved past her so that he was out of the bathroom and rubbed his head with his hand while his back was to her before turning to face her again.

"No… No breaks. If you want to make things right with your brother, then you do it, but you don't give up. Don't give in."

"Real easy to say tha' kid, ain't so easy to do," Merle said matter-of-factly.

Sophia shook her head. "It is that easy to do. Who hit who first?"

"Fuckin he did."

Sophia gave him a look, "exactly. But I bet you hit him back right away. You gotta diffuse the situation, Merle. You don't go zero to fighting in two seconds flat. That's like basic socialization, kids learn that in kindergarten." Her tone was so straightforward, so authoritative.

Merle snorted, smiled at her and shook his head. "Git over 'ere," he muttered, crouching down a bit to her level and opening his arms. She smiled and moved forward to hug him. "What'm I gonn' do, girl? He don't listen. He ain't like ya… I can't jus' go and talk to 'im."

She pulled back from the hug and looked at him earnestly. "Maybe you have to show him."

Merle raised an eyebrow at her. "Show 'im," he repeated.

Sophia nodded, her lips drawing together in a sly smile. "I think he likes my mom." Her eyes glittered as she said it.

Merle tilted his head, looking at her, his eyes narrowed. He was silent for a moment and then slowly he nodded. "Reckon ya ain't wrong…," his words were slow, deliberate.

"I think she likes him too," Sophia said quietly.

Merle sucked in the side of his cheek and then nodded, a mischievous glint coming into his eye. "Beats me why," he remarked snidely and Sophia glared at him, making him smile. "Fuck, it's jus' a joke, kid… where's yer sense of humor?"

"Probably wherever yours is, because that wasn't funny," she replied.

Merle laughed. "Fine, fine. So what ya sayin' is they likes each other… what that got to do with me?"

Sophia smiled, her eyes sparkling. "You're gonna get them together… or we are, at least."

Merle gave her a dubious look, but then a smile crossed his face and slowly, he nodded.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N – Thank you for the review everyone! You're all so awesome. I hope you like this somewhat short chapter! Please read and review. **

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Chapter 9 – What Wouldn't I Do For You

Carol had stepped into the lobby of the building at the same time that Daryl had breezed through. She hadn't gotten a good look at him but she could tell he was sullen and cross. She'd intended to go right after him, to find out what had happened, but she was distracted by a familiar face coming through the door.

"Andrea!," Carol cried, rushing forward, enveloping Andrea in a hug and barely even noticing Merle as he slipped inside and headed out of the lobby area and away from all the people.

"Ooof," Andrea exhaled as Carol hugged her and then, "now that's a welcome." Andrea flashed a smile at everyone before frowning. "Where's Shane?"

Carol paled and Andrea seemed to notice. Their eyes met and Carol shook her head. Andrea's face took on a sad look of acceptance and she nodded slightly.

"How'd you make it out of there?," Carol asked. Everyone seemed to be listening to the two of them and Andrea took a step back and motioned to the other woman with her.

"My savior, everyone, her name's Michonne… she's a lawyer just like me but not nearly so cutthroat," Andrea said with a wink. Everyone murmured their greetings at the stranger in their midst who still held the handle of a long bladed sword.

Carol smiled and Andrea grinned, raising her eyebrows and moving closer so that only Carol could hear. "Tough crowd, huh… not nearly so **cutthroat**… come on, the woman has a sword."

Carol smiled, let out a giggle and hugged Andrea again. "I'm so glad you're alive."

When they separated, Andrea spoke seriously, "me too."

"I never got to thank you… you saved my life, you know," Carol said softly, her eyes losing a bit of their glimmer as she remembered that they'd nearly lost Andrea because Carol wasn't able to protect herself.

Andrea shook her head, waved her gratitude off. "We're all together now… that's what matters."

"What happened? How did you find us?"

Andrea frowned. "It was a total accident. You can thank Merle Dixon… if he hadn't been making so much noise brawling with Daryl, I'd never have even known they were there."

Carol bit her lip. "They were fighting?"

"Oh yea, a total brawl. So you have to tell me where the hell Merle came from…"

Carol smiled softly. "He found Sophia."

Andrea looked taken aback. "Sophia? She's alive?," she said breathlessly.

Carol nodded excitedly. "She is. She was with Merle almost the whole time, looking for us."

Rick said something then that got Andrea's attention and she motioned to Carol that they'd talk later. Carol glanced around the room and took note of who was where.

"Where's Sophia?," she asked Carl who was standing against the wall.

"Went after Merle," he said, looking nervous as if he might get in trouble.

She nodded, "good," she said and went to walk past him but he interrupted.

"I told her she shouldn't go…"

Carol looked at the young boy and realized just how young he was in comparison to her daughter. They were the same age but somehow Sophia had grown up in her weeks away to be years ahead of where Carl was emotionally.

"You missed her," Carol said matter-of-factly and Carl shrugged. She remembered how much Carl had moped in the days after Sophia's disappearance, how Sophia had been who he'd asked about after he'd woken up after getting shot, how he'd lashed out at her when they all thought Sophia was dead.

"She'd rather hang out with Merle than me now," Carl said softly, looking down.

"If you had a choice between _hanging_ with your dad or with Sophia, who would you pick?," Carol asked and he looked up at her.

"My dad."

Carol nodded perfunctorily. "Right… well Merle… Merle is kind of like Sophia's dad now so sometimes she's going to hang with him."

Carl nodded and Carol gave him a small smile before heading down in the direction she'd seen Daryl take off to.

She exited the back door that was ajar and headed to the storage area that she'd slept in the night before. Sure enough, she found him inside, pacing and muttering angrily to himself. She stopped in the doorway and rapped her knuckles against the metal frame, hearing the ting-ting metal sound echo in the empty space.

Daryl stopped and looked at her.

"The hell ya want? Ain't ya done enough…," he snapped, his eyes narrowing and he advanced on her, moving forward to within a foot of her and looming in that angry, threatening way. She remembered the stance from the night he'd yelled at her back at Hershel's by the campsite he'd made to keep away from the group.

He'd done the same thing then… gave her a smart-ass remark and stalked around her like a predator intimidating, cornering its prey.

She stood in the doorway, crossed her arms over her chest and met his eyes.

"You'd think you'd have worked out some of this aggression in town with Merle," she said calmly.

He blinked at her, eyed her through narrowed eyelids. "Ya think this is aggressive… I can show ya aggressive," he sneered but he didn't make a move.

Carol smiled slightly and stepped forward in the small space between them so that now she stood just inches away from him.

"I'm not scared of you, Daryl."

His face clouded over and he backed up a step to put some distance between them.

She smirked and took a step forward, her eyes still locked on his.

He frowned and took a step backward.

She took another step forward closing the distance again and this time his lips pulled together in a small smile.

"Ain't scared, huh…," he said quietly, his eyes shifting uncomfortably.

Carol shook her head. "Nope. Now what happened today?"

Daryl shrugged.

"Don't shrug at me. What happened today?"

Daryl raised his lip in a snarl and glared, but simply said, "I ain't gonna trust 'im. Nothin he does is gonn' make me trust 'im."

Carol furrowed her brow. "I trust him, Daryl."

Daryl frowned.

"I trust him," she repeated, "I have to. For Sophia. She needs him so I trust him."

"Nothin is gonn' make me trust 'im," Daryl said stubbornly.

"Do it for me?," Carol said, stepping forward a little bit more so that there was hardly any distance between them at all, so close that she could feel the body heat radiating off of him. Her head was tilted up so that she could look him in the eyes.

He had a deer in the headlights look on his face and he was silent long enough that she thought maybe he didn't hear. "Please, Daryl… could you do it for me?," she repeated.

Daryl's eyes stayed still on hers for a moment and then he gave the smallest of nods.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N – Sorry for the super long break, everyone! I put this on hold for what I thought would only be a week but I've been swamped and I haven't been able to write for a couple of days. Hope you like! Thank you for your wonderful reviews! You all really make my day with your kind words and comments. **

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Chapter 10 – What's Love… Got to Do With It?

Daryl felt anger surge through him. He was so tired of this group. Tired of these people. Damn fuckin' tired of Merle getting the better of him at each and every turn.

It was weird how he could love and hate his brother all at the same time. He loved Merle because the man was his brother, his blood. Yet somehow he still managed to hate him at the same time. He hated the old Merle, the Merle he remembered, the Merle he grew up with… the Merle who used to be all equal parts cruelty and indifference. He could sort of respect the Merle he saw now… this brother of his who stood up with the group, was making nice with Rick, even being pleasant to Glenn, T-Dog and the new woman Michonne, going on supply runs, and taking Sophia – and begrudgingly, Carl too on occasion – out into the woods to hunt. This Merle was not the Merle that Daryl grew up with. Not the Merle that helped raise – if you count beratings and beatings as "raising" – him.

Over the last week at the compound, since their confrontation in town, Daryl had avoided Merle as much as possible while at the same time studiously watching him. If Carol was going to trust this brother of his… well, he was going to keep an eye on him, keep her and her girl safe. If Merle was a threat in any way, Daryl would put him down.

Of course, this Merle never seemed to do any wrong. Merle was still gruff, rough around the edges, swearing constantly much like Daryl remembered, and he maintained a tough exterior with most of the group. But not with Sophia. And over the last week, not with Carol either.

It was early morning. Merle was proposing a run into town for weapons for everyone to train on. It was a good idea, Daryl knew, but the anger was still rising within him. He was having a hard time not being angry… a harder time than usual. Merle rubbed him wrong constantly. The polite, bordering on considerate, almost kind, way he talked to Carol rubbed Daryl wrong. And this… this rubbed him wrong. It rubbed him wrong the way Merle had gone about proposing the run. He'd claimed it was so that everyone could protect themselves... and for those less prepared to learn how to better protect themselves.

Merle directed the suggestion like it was for everyone's benefit but Daryl knew better. More than most of them were comfortable with weapons already with the exception of Hershel's youngest who was still shaky about it, Carl who had a gun – Daryl's gun – but despite a lucky shot at Shane back at the farm wasn't steady with it yet, Sophia who had knives but was eager to learn more from Merle – always and only from Merle – and Carol... This wasn't about getting weapons for everyone. This was about getting weapons for _Carol_. Merle's idea, his reasoning behind it, it was about training Carol to use a weapon. And the others were all for it like he was offering candies and cupcakes.

If he was honest with himself, Daryl would have to admit that it was jealousy he felt. Jealousy that fueled his rage. If Carol was going to have a weapon, he wanted to have been the one to propose getting one for her. If anyone was going to train her on a weapon… well, it should be _him_. So why hadn't he thought of it? Why hadn't he said something about getting her a weapon? Why hadn't he just fucking got one for her?

He stayed silent though… standing on the outskirts of the group circle that had formed when they had gathered to talk. He listened – half lost in his own thoughts and half focused on the conversation at hand – as they debated when, where, how and who. He'd stayed on the outside of it all, less inclined to participate these days now that Merle was here and all take charge about everything. But he was still within a step or two of where Carol stood. He was always within a step or two of where Carol stood.

He was angry at everyone. He was sick and tired of the group… of being a part of these people. Of being a… _henchman_. Yea, maybe Carol had been right. He'd thought about leaving more than once over the last few days. He'd thought about it. He didn't need them. He could make it on his own… be his own man… his own boss. He didn't care if he left Merle. Merle probably wouldn't care either. And the others… well, they wouldn't give two shits for Daryl Dixon, at least as far as he figured.

But every time he thought of leaving… he thought of Carol. She was the only reason he had to stay. She was the only thing worth staying for.

He was growing to like her daughter too. He hadn't known much of Sophia before she'd disappeared. The girl was a spitfire… she had the sweetness of Carol all through her, but she was developing some of Merle's methods and mannerisms. Daryl almost laughed the day that Sophia said "fuck" at the dinner table in front of her mom. Carol's face had turned all shades of purple and she'd looked up at Merle with an eyebrow raised and a menacing glare in her eye.

"_Shit, don' fuckin be lookin at me, fuckin hardly ever say fuck any-fuckin-more," Merle had mumbled through a mouthful of food with a sheepish smile on his face. _

Carol had smiled though, shook her head, reached over and ran a hand through Sophia's hair.

"_Watch your mouth, young lady… or at least keep it to a minimum around me," Carol had said softly, her eyes meeting Daryl's across the table. _

The memory of it made Daryl's mouth turn up a bit, but he was jogged back to reality and back to the group when Merle suddenly clapped a hand on his back.

Daryl gritted his teeth and looked at his brother who had moved from where he'd been standing among the others to come and stand next to Daryl, putting his body in the slight distance between Daryl and Carol.

"Wha' ya say, lil' brother… ya comin' with?," Merle said a bit too boisterously and Daryl kept his eyes narrowed at him.

Daryl turned his eyes to Rick who was looking at him confidently and he gave a sharp nod. He'd go get weapons. For Carol though. He wasn't going for Merle.

Rick smiled, "Great. Then we'll leave in an hour. Two groups… Hershel, Beth, and Carl will go with me. Carol and Sophia will go with Merle and Daryl. The others will stay behind."

"The fuck no they won't," Daryl growled angrily as Rick's words set in, glancing at Carol who was watching him now. He shook his head, looked around at all of them. "Doc, Rick, Merle, and me can get weapons jus' fine. Ain't no need to be bringin' kids and women out there."

"Hey!," Andrea said indignantly, but Daryl interrupted.

"I don't mean it like tha', blondie… hold yer horses," he held up a hand at Andrea. "I mean her," he said tilting his head at Carol, his eyes meeting Rick's, "she ain't goin'. And neither is the girl." He looked at Sophia who was now focused on him and had crossed her arms in front of her.

"Daryl," Merle said in a low voice, a warning tone.

"The girl?," Carol said slowly, emphasizing her words. She had turned her whole body and was facing Daryl now, her eyes intent on his. "_She_ ain't going?," she repeated his words before tightening her lips into a thin line on her face. Then she snorted in disbelief at him. "Oh I'm going, Daryl. I'm going. And I'm picking a weapon just like Merle said I could."

"And so am _I_, Mis-ter Dix-on," Sophia said emphatically, her little voice angry and higher pitched than usual. Apparently, he was no longer Daryl to her. She'd been calling him Daryl since he'd told her to in the hallway a week or so ago, any traces of Mr. Dixon banished from her mind. Although from what it seemed, he was banished now in a whole new way.

Carol gave a look at Merle and nodded before heading with Sophia out of the room to get whatever they needed before they left in an hour.

Daryl huffed an agitated breath. Just what he needed… Carol to be pissed at him. The others were disbursing but he was too annoyed to take notice.

Annoyed at himself. Angry at the group. Angry at Merle. In love with Carol.

_Wait! Wha'? _The thought stopped him. _In love with Carol? Hell naw… I cain't be... I'm jus'…_

Worried… he was worried about Carol. Worried that she'd go into town with them to get weapons and she'd get hurt. Or something would happen and they'd get separated. Lose Sophia again. Anything could happen out there. He was just worried about her. He wanted her here, where it was at least somewhat safe. He didn't want anything to happen to her. He couldn't bear it if something happened...

That was all. Daryl Dixon didn't know a thing about being in love with someone. He had no business being in love with anyone. He was just worried... just scared for her safety, that's all.

"I'm just scared," he murmured quietly, not intending to say the words out loud and he looked over at Merle still standing beside him. They were shoulder to shoulder but Merle wasn't looking at him, he was just standing there quietly his eyes fixed on something or someone else in the room.

"I know ya are, baby brother… I know ya are," Merle said softly after a moment so that only Daryl could hear. Turning his head slightly to catch Daryl's eye, Merle gave a slight smile and a small nod at Daryl before moving away, heading toward where Carol and Sophia had gone off to.

Watching his brother go, Daryl felt the ball of anger, shame, rage and regret that was buried somewhere deep inside of him, built and bound like a tightly wound rubberband ball from years and years of pain, start to unwind and he wondered if there was a chance that maybe, just maybe, there was hope for them yet.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N – So looooong to finally get this done. I'm so sorry. I had writer's block and I have a crazy work schedule this week and next. Not sure when my next one will be up but I'll get it done as soon as I can! Thank you for the reviews! I really appreciate you guys bearing with me and continuing to read even when I can't be as dedicated to posting as I want to be. **

Chapter 11 – The Mistakes that Haunt Us

"He don't mean no harm, ya know…," Merle said from the doorway. Carol and Sophia were both inside the room where they'd been sleeping the last few nights. Sophia looked up at him, caught his eye and he winked at her. She grinned that smile that only she could give him, the smile that made the world light up.

Carol was busy with something at her bed, her back to Merle, and she shook her head to herself before turning around to look at him. She stood there, one hand on her hip and sighed.

"I know. I know that, Merle. He never means any harm. But he can't tell me what to do. He keeps trying to… but I'm not going to let him. I've been there, done that, and I'm through being whatever everyone else wants me to be."

Merle sucked the side of his cheek into his mouth, shrugged at her sullenly.

"He's not my… I don't know, he's Daryl… he keeps acting like he's more and… well, he's not. He wouldn't want to be, trust me," Carol said frowning.

"He's acting like he's your husband," Sophia said softly, "Maybe he wants to be…"

Carol looked at her and chuckled, "Oh, you're sweet; honey, but I don't think so."

Merle took a deep breath and stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. This wasn't part of the plan… this conversation… but it seemed as good a time as any for him to decide to be frank.

"Daryl's scared, Carol. And if he knew I told-ya that, he'd shit a fuckin' brick bout it."

Carol furrowed her brow and looked at Merle. "What? Why would he be scared?"

Merle raised an eyebrow at her. He wasn't going to give her all the answers. He'd been watching them both over the last week. Daryl had been avoiding him but had been all over making sure Carol was safe. Merle knew what Daryl was doing. He didn't blame him. Merle had done a lot of shit to Daryl over the years… trust wasn't going to come easy. He counted himself lucky to have Sophia at this point… lucky to have found her and lucky that Carol was so willing to let him stick around her.

And Daryl… well, Merle was going to believe that somehow, someday Daryl was going to come around. But Merle had been watching them, and he'd noticed some things. The way Carol always made sure to give an extra scoop of whatever supper there was to Daryl. The way Daryl was always a step or two away from her, eyes always aimed in her direction. It was like a dance the two had… like some backwards two-step between people clearly in love but both too scared to make the first move.

"Why would he be scared?," Carol repeated and Merle sighed.

"Ya didn't grow up like we did… Daryl ain't had the best life, and frankly I was as much a cause of that as anythin' else… there's a lot tha' happened to make Daryl who he is today," Merle said, hanging his head.

"So tell me, Merle… I want to understand him," Carol said softly, her eyes searching Merle's earnestly; "I _need_ to understand him."

Merle frowned, moved across the room and sat down at the seat next to Sophia, he glanced over at Sophia gave her a small nod and then turned his gaze back to Carol.

"We had a Ma once… I imagine she was a bit like ya. She was sweet and she loved us. She died. When I was 13… I think Daryl might-a been 3 or 4."

_Daryl was crying and his tears just made Merle madder. Didn't the kid know that his mother was dead and there wasn't no place for crying no more? Pa was in the kitchen, passed out, head down on the table, bottle of bourbon still clutched in his hand. _

"He was too lil' for Pa's shit… I took a lotta beatin's for 'im when he was a babe, til he was a bit bigger 'an school age. But when I got into the drugs… well I all but forgot Daryl existed."

_Merle made his way over to where three-year-old Daryl was sobbing at the bottom of the stairs. "What's yer problem?," he muttered angrily and his younger still-a-baby-far-as-he-was-concerned brother just looked up at him, tear-soaked face, red eyes, lower lip hanging down, whimpering like a puppy. _

"I wasn't the brother I shoulda been… he got older and I got older… and I got into all sorts-a shit. I used to put out butts on 'im, tripped 'im, smacked 'im round sometimes, cause I was bored and high and dumb as shit. I 'ventually learned that if I put the blame on Daryl, for whatever shit there was didn't matter… well, Pa would hit him instead. The only man I ever been 'fraid of is that man… Pa. I was shit stupid and I justified gettin' Daryl beat by all the beatin's I took when Daryl was just a babe."

_Merle sighed. "Git up and quit yer blubberin'. Ma wouldn't-a like it anymore than I does." _

"_Want Ma," Daryl sniffed out quietly and Merle reached down pulling his baby brother up to a standing position. _

"_Me too, kid, me too. But she ain't 'ere no more. It's me and ya and Pa now. Jus' us boys. Gotta be a big boy now and quit yer cryin' or you'll wake 'im. Ya know he won't like that." _

_Daryl's eyes got wide and he took a deep phlegmy breath. "Scared of Pa…," he whispered, his 'r' sounding like a 'w', his toddler voice even as a whisper high-pitched and a little abrasive to Merle's ears. _

_Merle had an urge to smack his little brother… it just sprang into his mind and he didn't know where it came from. The instant he thought it though, he thought of Ma. She wouldn't like it. She needed him to be strong, to be her big man, to take care of Daryl. She'd said so… when she told him about leaving Pa, she'd said he'd have to be her big man so that he could help. She couldn't do without him, she'd said. _

_Of course that hadn't happened had it… leaving Pa. There just was no leaving Pa. And Ma was gone. Dead. Choked. Stabbed. Double dead. _

_Didn't mean Ma didn't still need him to be her big man though…_

"_Don't worry, kid… I'm gonna take care of ya. Keep ya safe like Ma used-ta." _

"_Promise?" It sounded like 'pwomise' and it nearly made Merle remember he was just a teenager with no Ma no more, nearly made him choke on his own grief. He felt the anger building up again. The anger was easier than the grief. The anger was a comforting tonic to the emotions that were eating him alive. _

"_Fuckin said it, didn't I? Quit yer blubberin' now and we'll fix up some shit to eat." _

Merle paused, his voice thick when he continued, "I told 'im I would take care of 'im, Carol… I told 'im, but I was full of shit. None of the beatings I ever took could compare to what Pa did to 'im, none of 'em could ever compare… Pa hated Daryl, called 'im 'the one that ain't mine'... ya don't even know the shit he done to 'im… the scars on tha' boy… I was the lucky one. Cause I was fucked up selfish and too high to give a shit bout nothing but my next fix…"

Sophia placed a small hand on top of his on the table and he broke his gaze from Carol and looked at her, his eyes distraught, the regret and shame of all the ways he'd failed his brother completely overwhelming, consuming him.

The door swung open in that moment and they were interrupted by Daryl storming in.

"We fuckin' goin' to git this shit or wha'? Ya'll fuckin' dawdlin' and the time's a waistin'," Daryl said crossly.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N – So am I the only person who has watched the Walking Dead Trailer at least 7 times so far… and I'll probably watch once a day for the next three months until the premiere. Haha. I cannot wait for October. In the meantime though, here is an update. I know my updates have been slow. Too much work and not enough fun time but hopefully soon enough I'll get back into a groove and will be able to update more. My goal until then is at least a chapter or two a week. Thank you for your patience. **

**Hope you like! Please read and review! **

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Chapter 12 – Well Laid Plans

_Of course Daryl walks in, of course he does! They were just getting to the good part! _Merle's eyes were still on Sophia and she saw the emotion there. He was hurting. She could see his shame at everything he'd done, but she didn't care about all of that, it didn't matter to her what he'd done. What matters is now… what he does now is far more important to her than what he ever did before.

He was her Merle. He was the father she wished she'd had much earlier, but at least she had him now. She smiled at him slightly, squeezed her fingers a little around his hand. She wanted him to know it was okay. His story didn't change the fact that she loved him. His story didn't change the fact that she respected him, that she believed in him. And when she glanced at her mother, she knew it didn't change her mom's opinions about Merle Dixon either.

In some ways Sophia was lucky. Ed had sucked. She couldn't think of him as her father anymore. Blood didn't make a person a father. Blood didn't mean shit – although she wouldn't say it in quite those exact words to her mom.

But she'd had her mother, and for that Sophia knew she was lucky. Despite everything Ed had put her mom through; Carol had managed to be caring and open-minded to everyone around her. Maybe more so than if she hadn't been married to an abusive, ignorant prick. At least that's what Sophia thought about when she thought about her mom. She'd been lucky to have the mom she had. A mom who loved her, who trusted her. Who could look at a man like Merle, after hearing about the life he'd led, about the stuff he'd done to make his brother hate him so… who could look at him and still think he was good, that he was someone that deserved a second chance, a chance to be a father to her little girl.

Sophia didn't feel like a little girl anymore. She'd stopped feeling like a little girl at some point after she'd gotten lost… maybe it was the whole Randall and Dodge thing – something about fighting for your life could make a person grow up, make a person give up being a child. But she didn't care that she didn't feel little anymore, she still needed Merle more than she'd needed most anyone.

She needed Merle to teach her to be tough, strong, to make her laugh like only Merle could. And she needed her mother to keep her kind, to keep her honest, and maybe – just maybe – to keep the swears out of her mouth too. Although she wouldn't admit that last reason if she was asked.

It was obvious to Sophia that her mom needed Daryl though. And Daryl needed her mom. And Sophia was going to make damn sure they figured that out.

As they all stepped outside they saw Hershel, Rick, Beth and Carl all loaded up in one car, and another car behind with Andrea hanging out of the open driver's side door.

"Geez, I was about to go on ahead without you all!," she called out with a wave.

"The fuck's blondie comin' for?," Merle muttered as they approached and Andrea grinned at Sophia.

"Oh come on, Merle, don't be such an old poop about it… get your ass in the car and let's go," Andrea said lightly.

Sophia grabbed Merle's arm stopping him and he spun to face her.

"How can we do this if she's there?," Sophia whispered. Merle bent down so that his face was closer to hers.

"No worries, 'Phia, I'll think-a somethin'."

There was a hunting store with a gun range about two hours out from the storage facility where they were staying. Merle rode in the front with Andrea, and Sophia sat in the back between Daryl and Carol. Daryl was still stewing, staring out the window mostly, but Sophia couldn't help but notice how often his head turned just ever so slightly and his eyes shifted in the direction of her mom.

It had been Daryl's doing – Andrea being there. While Merle, her mom, and she were in the room discussing Daryl and the past, Daryl had been seeking out Rick and Andrea and getting additional protection for Carol and Sophia.

Carol was sitting next to Sophia, occasionally looking out the window, and occasionally tuning in to the conversation in the front of the car between Merle and Andrea. Sophia tried to balance her concentration in between the silence with her mom and Daryl in the front and the bickering of Merle and Andrea in the front.

"Jus' don't be gettin' in my fuckin way," Merle muttered.

"Oh, can it, Merle. You're getting on my nerves with that shit," Andrea snapped back.

"I'm jus' sayin' ya didn't need to be 'ere, we don't need ya."

Andrea huffed an angry sound. "Lucky for me you're not in charge then, you ignorant asshole." Andrea turned her head from the road for a moment and glared. Merle glared back and Sophia nearly smiled watching the scene play out.

The store loomed ahead and the parking lot was mostly empty except for a few stray cars and a couple of lingering walkers around the entrance. It was a large store from what Sophia could see. Merle had told her that it was full of all sorts of hunting equipment – guns, bows, knives – and that it had other stuff too that they might be able to use. They unloaded from the vehicles quickly.

"Yer stickin' with me, woman," Daryl growled touching Carol's arm possessively and giving Merle a look that didn't escape Sophia's gaze.

Carol nodded and looked at Sophia, "come on sweetie." Before Sophia could respond or act, Merle did it for her.

"I got 'er," he said catching Carol's eye, "why don't Daryl and ya head inside… we'll be right there."

Carol looked hesitant but Daryl nodded and went to guide her toward the door. Rick, Beth, Hershel and Carl had already headed inside. Sophia caught her mom's eye and gave her a nod and a smile. "I'll be okay, mom, don't worry. We'll be right in." She watched as her mom and Daryl moved to the door and disappeared inside before looking back at Andrea and Merle. Andrea had her arms crossed in front of her and was eyeing both Sophia and Merle suspiciously.

"What am I missing here, you two?"

Sophia tried to grin sheepishly and looked at Merle who sighed. "We tha' obvious?," he muttered.

"Well certainly not to blind and blinder in there, but yea, your subtlety needs work. So spill…"

"My mom and Daryl like each other and we want to get them together," Sophia blurted out. She covered her mouth with both hands and looked at Merle wide-eyed.

He chuckled. "Clearly 'Phia wadn't built for interrogation… tha's bout the gist of it though…" he trailed off seeing the look on Andrea's face and then said a little roughly, "wha'? Ya got a problem with it?"

"Hell no," Andrea said. "Those two have been needling around each other ever since the highway and we first lost Sophia… it's about goddamn time something finally happens to get them together," her voice was excited and then she clapped her hands together and grinned. "So, I'm in. What's the plan?"


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N – I'm not sure how to describe the gun that Carol is holding in the trailer for Season 3, but I wanted to use something similar in the story here so I made it up. Hopefully I'm close, but please forgive any unrealism. Hope you like! Last chapter felt tough to me but this one seemed a little better. Thank you for the reviews! You're all wonderful! **

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Chapter 13 – A Clever Ruse

They were moving down the hallway in the dark when he grabbed her hand, pulling her forward so that she was striding even with him, and then dropping her hand like it was a hot coal and she'd burned him. Inwardly, Carol sighed. Outwardly, she was just trying not to enrage Daryl. He ran so hot and cold it was confusing. She knew he didn't want her here, but she knew Merle was right to suggest a trip here with her and Sophia… she wanted to be comfortable with a weapon… she _needed_ to be comfortable with a weapon.

"The fuck are they?," he growled out angrily, glancing back behind them before catching her eye and flitting his attention back to the hall ahead.

Carol felt her stomach flip nervously. She didn't like being apart from Sophia even for a moment. At the storage facility – it was hard to think of it is as "home" which is what she supposed it had become at this point – she didn't mind so much because at least she knew it was fenced, but here… here too much could go wrong. What if she lost her again?

She must have slowed her gait because Daryl was looking at her in the dark now, peering at her with half a glare at her slow pace and half a concerned look on his face.

"They's fine, woman, ain't nothin' to worry bout."

She nodded but something about the thought of losing Sophia again had taken root in her brain and she could feel the weight building on her chest. Something in her eyes must have reached him because he stopped moving and spun to face her, stopping her in the process.

Suddenly his hands were on her arms just below her shoulders, warm on her skin, and he was inches from her, his face just barely visible in the darkness of the hallway. "They're fine... ya gotta breathe."

She hadn't realized she hadn't been until he said it and a ragged breath came raspingly from her mouth. One hand on her bicep tightened and he nodded, "good, good girl… now come on, let's git started and git outta here."

Carol fell into step beside Daryl again and went through the push-through swinging doors at the end of the hallway into one of the areas of the store. They were surrounded by weapons. As far as Carol could see the wall was lined with various bows on racks, and guns in glass casings, the tallest area of the room held various animal heads… trophies of game animals to encourage – or taunt – the enthusiasts that must have frequented the place for their hunting supplies.

Daryl moved purposefully into the room, heading for a wall and plucked a small bow straight away. "Could work," he muttered to himself as she went to stand next to him.

"For me?," she asked and he glanced at her.

"Nah… for the kid… er… for Sophia, I mean."

"Oh," she said softly and he averted his eyes to something behind her before half-smiling, his expression almost coy.

"I got somethin better in mind for you." His voice was soft and he handed her the bow and moved forward to the object of his gaze. He explained it was an automatic machine gun rifle. He smashed the glass, retrieving it and another small item next to it which he called a shoulder brace stabilizer to allow for an easier time aiming the weapon.

"It's a little big…," she said, her gaze locked on the weapon in Daryl's hands and then shifted to his eyes. She saw something in his eyes there that made her belly respond, made her innards shift deep inside her, but she could see him quell it as he cleared his throat to speak.

"It'll be easier to handle than ya'd think…," it looked like he might say more and that's when they heard the gun shots.

"Sophia!," Carol cried out and she was running toward the swinging door. She was at the door when Daryl grabbed her back, pulling her into him, his arm coming around her waist.

"Sh…shh…shhh… wait, hol' up…," his voice was gruff in her ear but she struggled against his grip.

"Let me go, Daryl, I'm not doing this again, I can't lose her, I have to get out there, I have to get to her," her voice was shrill and he was pulling her back as she struggled as the door swung inward and Andrea stumbled through at a run.

"Run," Andrea yelled, "this way, come on!"

"Sophia?," Carol yelled, yanking herself from Daryl's grasp and grabbing Andrea's arm, spinning her toward her.

"She's fine," Andrea said hurriedly, "Merle's got her, they're hiding… come on! We don't have time to stand here…" Andrea tugged her arm from Carol's grip and ran through the room, Daryl and Carol quickly following. Daryl grabbed the bow and gun that had been dropped in Carol's urgency to get to Sophia and sprinted after Carol and Andrea.

Andrea burst through another set of doors at the end of the room and suddenly they were in another hallway. Carol could hear the echo of their boots against the tile floor as they ran, down the hallway through another set of doors, into the seating area of a small restaurant within the store.

"Come on!," Andrea called out as she skidded to a halt by the wall inside the kitchen and opened a steel door. "Get in here, quick!"

Before Carol could say anything, Daryl's hand was on the small of her back and he was guiding her into the darkness of the restaurant's now-unused and powered off freezer room. Daryl may have hesitated at the entrance behind her, she wasn't sure, she didn't look back. But she heard Andrea say, "go on Daryl, quick, we've all got to hide...," and she heard Daryl's light footsteps behind her and then the fast creak of the door shutting, slamming shut, and suddenly Daryl was howling, slamming his fists against the door.

"What the fuck, Andrea! What the fuck!," Daryl hollered angrily, grabbing for the handle on the inside, pulling it to no avail, then pounding his fists on the back of the door, before trying for the handle again.

"Daryl! Daryl!," Carol said loudly, grabbing for him to get his attention, to get him to stop, but he shrugged her off, continued his useless pounding on the door.

"Fuck!," Daryl screamed with one last bang on the door before he spun toward her, angrily, his movements stalking, the pissed rolling off him in a visible wave of rage and he stomped away in the darkness, a little further into the freezer.

Carol followed, it was dark, the room was warm but not stifling, and she waited a moment for her eyes to adjust and she could see him standing there, hands flat against the wall at the end of the freezer, leaning in, head hung down in what could only be described as a posture of defeat.

"Son of a fucking bitch," he breathed out as she approached. He spun as soon as she reached him, facing her, his eyes narrowed and glaring. "That stupid bitch locked us in, what the fuck was she thinkin? She still got some kinda death wish?"

"Daryl, stop!," Carol yelled, trying to get her voice louder than his, and she stopped him physically, her hands going to his shoulders and she braced him. It was a similar pose to how they had looked in the hallway when she'd nearly had a panic attack about being apart from Sophia, when he had grabbed her arms and calmed her down. He went still at her touch, his jaw still dropped from being cut off mid-rant, but his eyes locked on hers and he was silent.

"You've got to calm the fuck down, Daryl. Seriously, just calm the fuck down," she hissed, her grip firm on his shoulders and her eyes intense and flashing on his.

A sigh escaped him and she felt some of the tension leave him as his eyes averted for a moment and then swiveled back to her again. He cleared his throat and she dropped her hands from his shoulders, down to her side again.

"Did ya jus' say 'fuck'?"


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14 – Not What They had in Mind

Daryl watched her face go red and hot even in the darkness and then she rolled her eyes exasperatedly. "Really, Daryl? That's what you have to say?" He resisted the urge to shrug. The freezer was warm but his shoulders felt cold with the loss of her touch from before. He had never been in the habit of touching people, or of letting himself be touched if he could help it…but this strange feeling of loss at where her hands had just been…it was suddenly all he could think about.

He was silent too long after her question and she turned from him, her arms crossing in front of her automatically, one hand rubbing up and down her arm self-consciously. She paced the wall back to the door and leaned her head against it, straining to hear anything from the outside.

"Steel," he said, coming up behind her, "ya ain't gonna hear shit…"

She sighed loudly and turned to face him. "Is there even air in here? Aren't freezers air tight?," she asked, frowning.

"Should be okay… unless we's fixin to be in 'ere all night," Daryl said glancing up and around, peering at the corners and walls that boxed them in.

"What do you think happened?," she asked then, her eyes wet and wide.

He wished he was a different man than the one he was. Daryl wanted to be a man who could say that everyone would be okay, that whatever it was… it would pass, and they'd get out and everyone would be fine… Sophia would be fine. But he'd said that before, hadn't he? He hadn't been totally wrong… Sophia had been fine – _fine wit' Merle_ – but Daryl hadn't been the one to find her, had he?

He wondered if a day would come when he didn't come back to that in his head… his failings, his shortcomings. She always said he was a good man… and he wanted more than anything to believe her.

"Cain't say…," he said softly and he watched as she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, a single tear rolling down her cheek as she opened them again. He had the strangest notion to wipe that tear, to reach out with his hand, and use his thumb to swipe it away. He remembered the day in the kitchen when he'd had chocolate on his mouth and she'd put her thumb to his lips… suddenly he was cold, cold standing in a too warm room, wanting something he had no business wanting, at a time when he sure as hell shouldn't be wanting it.

"Andrea said Merle and Sophia were together… Merle has Sophia so she has to be safe…," Carol said, her tone imploring.

"Merle's got 'er," Daryl said, suddenly knowing what he should say, "my brother…he ain't always done right by me, but I ain't ever seen him do wrong by yer girl. He… he loves 'er, he'll keep 'er safe sure as anythin'."

The corner of her mouth twitched in a small smile and her eyes shone in the darkness, the only light in the room near as he could tell came straight from within her.

"I'm really sorry, Daryl," Carol said softly and he looked puzzled at her for a moment.

"Wha' ya got to 'pologize for?," he mumbled quickly, the warmth in the room flooding his face as he realized how uncomfortable he suddenly was.

She swallowed and his eyes lingered on her throat a second too long before raising back to meet her eyes. "For yelling at you like I did, in front of everybody… about coming here… it seems like you were right."

"Nah," he shook his head, pursed his lips, "I'm-a jus' too stupid to admit when someone else knows better than me… Merle was right, shoulda gotten ya a weapon a long time ago."

A giggle escaped Carol's lips unbidden and she smiled. "I don't think we should tell Merle you said that," she whispered the words even though it was just the two of them trapped in the freezer together.

"Reckon he's got a big 'nough head as it is these days," Daryl muttered in response, glancing away from her.

"He loves you, you know, he really just wants to make things right," Carol said and Daryl looked at her sharply.

"Ya don't know nothin' bout it," he snapped, his eyes blazing, but he saw it… the hesitation of knowledge in her eyes… what did she know? He felt it in the pit of his stomach, and he remembered the deer in the headlights look that every one of them had in their room when he'd walked in. "Wha'd he fuckin tell ya?," he growled out angrily.

Carol's eyes hardened and suddenly her hand was on his chest, over his shirt, palm down against the hard wall of his chest, almost dead center, and he knew she could feel the long, ridged scar that lay beneath his shirt, that mottled him. He was holding his breath, a second from pulling away, from yanking his body back and away from her touch.

She looked indecisive, as if she wasn't quite sure what she planned to say next... she dropped her head a second, stared down at the ground and then raised it again to meet his eyes, her fingers and palm still flush against that scar… she might as well have reached down in and laced her hand around his heart.

"I'm not afraid to love you, Daryl," her eyes never left his as she spoke, "you might be afraid to love me, and that's fine, or maybe you just don't love me, and that's fine too… but I'm not afraid to love you, and you should know that.

It nearly pained him to back away, he felt the stab in his chest, right where the scar was, as he moved a hand over hers, clasping it inside his own and then pulling it off of him, stepping back, giving him distance. He needed the distance to breathe.

Something dawned in her eyes, a sadness, a melancholy across her features, but a resigned melancholy. She thought that was his answer, that was his response. She seemed to nod her head slightly, turned her face to the side as if she couldn't look at him and went to pull her hand out from his, but he didn't release it. She raised her face again to look at him questioningly.

"Ya don't wanna love me," he said softly, his voice so low he might as well have been talking to himself.

She opened her mouth but he shook his head, squeezing her hand.

"Ya don't wanna love me," he repeated. "I don't want ya to love me… I ain't good, Carol. I ain't no good. I wanna be… for ya… but tha' don't make me nothin' near worthy of you lovin' **me**."

"Daryl," she started, but he squeezed her hand again and she closed her mouth.

"I'm afraid of lovin ya, woman… ain't never truly been afraid in my whole life. Never fuckin cared 'nough to be afraid-a nothin'… but I… I am fuckin shit terrified of loving **you**," he kept his eyes averted as he spoke, only pinning them to her on that last word.

"I'm not scary, Daryl… no one's been scared of me my whole life," Carol said softly, slowly entangling her hand from his and stepping forward, placing her hand again on his chest, over that scar.

"Wha' do ya want?," he asked softly, it wasn't a harsh question, just a question… his eyes were so unsure, his body tense like he might balk at any moment. He was an idiot for this, blathering on like an idiot… telling her he was scared… he was a Dixon… what's a Dixon got to be afraid of except maybe another Dixon. But he couldn't pull away this time; he didn't want to break the contact of her palm on his body, his heart beating right beneath it.

"You, Daryl, I… just… want… you," she breathed.

And he kissed her like it was the most natural thing in the world to do, like he'd been kissing her his whole life even. He just leaned in, and touched his lips to hers, and she responded, opening them slightly and kissing him back, their bodies moving automatically into an embrace.

The creak of the door made them pull apart slightly, one of his hands grasping the back of her neck lightly, and her hand still against his chest as they turned toward the door. A black shadow of a person was backlight in the doorway, and a heavy footstep inside revealed a man… jeans, black jacket, gun clipped to his belt, dirty blondish hair and a leering smile.

"What have we here?," the man said gruffly and Daryl could see Andrea just outside the doorway, held tight by a large man with dark features, clutching her against him, terror written across her face.

"Who the fuck are you?," Daryl said grabbing for Carol and pushing her behind him as he stepped forward.

The man smiled, and his shoulders moved as if he was amused. "Well I'm the Governor of Woodbury, so who the fuck are you?"

* * *

**A/N – yes, he's here! Since we haven't officially "met" the governor on the show yet, my governor will probably be a bit comic, a bit what I imagine he might be on the show, and probably mostly of my own assumptions. So we're a bit AU here, but I figure Sophia is still alive and Merle is with the group so hell, I'm all AU anyway. lol. Thank you for your reviews so far! Looking forward to your thoughts on this one! **


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N – Merle! I love Merle POV chapters. So we are stepping back a second… this chapter picks up right after Chapter 12 when Andrea asks what the plan is and brings you as close as it can from Merle's POV to Chapter 14 when the Governor opens up that freezer door… **

**Thank you all for your reviews! I really wish I had a free moment to send everyone a special, personalized thank you. You're all so awesome. Just a few people I'll thank right now (without making this list too long so I can't get everyone in there – I'm sorry !) – SOA Loving Mom, LopezG, love2chuck, Narnian at Heart, TwixPandawan, MarionArnold, hopelesslydevoted2svu, Daryl'sVixon, Emberka-2012, Daniyell37, Collective2220, kadieliz, hockeydrmr9, ochitduzen, LisaBoston, HisGodGivenSolace, Killerbee77, Miranthia, and Guest [whoever you may be]… okay that's all for now. But seriously everyone, including the ones I forgot to mention – you're all awesome and I thank you all for taking the time to read this and for reviewing if you can. **

* * *

Chapter 15 – Cut the Tension with a Butter Knife

"Who the fuck said anythin' bout a plan?," Merle countered to Andrea's question. This was his and Sophia's party… what was the broad crashing in on it for? She shouldn't even be there… who asked her to come anyhow? _Oh right, fuckin' Daryl_. Merle knew he deserved Daryl's hatred, even his mistrust… but did he really deserve to have Andrea for a fucking babysitter?

_Not bout tha' dumbass_. Andrea was there for Carol and Sophia's sake – their babysitter, not his… that's what Daryl had done by bringing her along. But somehow she'd ended up thinking she was in charge of Merle too. What. The. Fuck. _Ain't gonn' happen._

Andrea gave him a look of derision, her head tilted, eyes unimpressed, one arm on her hip. "Come on, Merle. Get over yourself and tell me the plan. I'll help."

"This ain't yer bus'ness. Yer help ain't needed, so mind yer ol' biddy ass bout it," Merle snapped. They were still standing out in the parking lot by the car, yet to even make a move into the building. He cast a glance at Sophia who was shaking her head. He narrowed his eyes at her.

Andrea made a sharp sound like a snort of laughter and took a step toward him threateningly, "I'm not an old biddy, you dumbass hillbilly piece of shit…"

"Are you two done?," Sophia asked loudly and chastisingly from beside them, intercepting what was turning into an angry and borderline violent situation.

Merle hadn't been thinking he'd hit Andrea – he wasn't in the habit of hitting broads – but he'd puffed up all the same when she'd taken that step toward him – _don't kick the dog 'nless yer lookin' to get bit_. Sophia's words made Andrea step back slightly, and both Merle and Andrea turned their attention from each other to the little girl.

Sophia had her arms crossed in front of her, leaning her weight on one hip, her eyes looking up at the two of them like she thought they were both nuts. _Maybe we is. _

"Seriously," Sophia said, her tone sounding much older than her years, "because if you're not done, I'll just go do this myself. But if you're done acting like you're the kids here and not me, then I'll let the **both** of you help."

"She fuckin' started it," Merle muttered.

"Merle," Sophia chided and Merle saw Andrea's shoulders shake with laughter out of his peripheral vision. Sophia saw it to though and her gaze was lightening fast on the older woman; "it's not funny," she said. "The two of you are acting like idiots. And we're wasting time."

Merle saw how far he'd come in that moment. When he'd first found Sophia… hell, if she'd called him an idiot back then, he might have left her there on the side of the road like some kind of walking roadkill. But now… now he felt foolish looking at her standing there like she was all grown up and in charge. His defenses were up. He wanted to say something sarcastic… say something cruel… tell her and Andrea both to shove it… anything to save himself from the embarrassment of getting the what-for from a twelve-year-old.

But then Sophia flicked her eyes toward him and he met her eyes. She gave him a tiny, imperceptible nod, meant only for him, and he knew that he didn't have to say anything. She wasn't going to hold this over his head; she didn't care that his temper had almost gotten the better of him yet again… They were still a team; Sophia was still his little girl. He felt the rage, the tension, dissipate and his hackles went down.

"Fine then," Andrea said resignedly, "The plan?"

Merle pursed his lips, saw Sophia's chin tilt up at him… her cue that he should go ahead and say it, tell Andrea what they'd planned to do.

"Get 'em trapped together… leave 'em thinkin' somethin' happened and it's jus' them. They'll talk… git all cozy… blah-di-fuckin-blah," Merle said a little snippily. He saw the look on Andrea's face and made a face of his own right back at her. "Hey, it's as good a plan as any… and it was 'Phia's plan too so don't fuckin be rainin' on our fuckin parade, bi-…"

"Merle," Sophia said again interrupting him before he could get out the word 'bitch'. He huffed loudly, glaring at them both for a moment before his eyes softened at Sophia. He kept the glare at Andrea though when she spoke.

"Oh-kay… that's fine. It's **your** plan. I wasn't gonna say anything anyway. Just tell me how to help."

"You could be the one to get them locked up together...," Sophia offered, "we really hadn't planned how we were going to do that anyway yet."

"Where are they getting locked up?," Andrea asked.

"Freezer," Merle muttered. Andrea looked at him.

"Umm… how are they going to breathe?"

Merle snorted. "We ain't dumbasses, I been 'ere on the last run… fixed it so air ain't a problem. Gonn' be warm as fuck though."

It was an easy decision to let Andrea be the one to cause the panic that got Daryl and Carol thrown into a room together. If Sophia did it, Carol would want her in there with them… no way could she get the door shut fast enough to lock them in anyway. And if it was Merle… well then there'd be no Sophia and no way would either Daryl or Carol get locked tight if they thought Sophia was still out there on her own.

"Ready?," Andrea asked, "make sure you to get over to find Rick and the others so they know this isn't for real." Merle gave her a nod and he and Sophia watched as Andrea headed for the door, fired three shots, and then took off at a sprint inside. He glanced at Sophia who smiled at him mischievously.

"Wha'?," he said.

"Merle and Andrea sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g," Sophia sang softly, suddenly acting like a kid again, shit-eating-grin all over her face.

If Merle didn't know himself better, he'd have thought his face got a little hot, but then he was scowling at the girl quickly, eyes narrowed. "Oh fuckin' shut it," he muttered with as much indignation as he could muster.

They moved forward toward the other set of doors where Rick, Hershel, Beth and Carl had all gone through into the large building. They'd gone into the gun range side so Hershel could show Beth how to handle the weapon better before she picked one. Sophia had just stepped inside when Merle heard the hum of wheels on gravel behind him.

He spun fast half in the doorway and half out as he saw three 4x4 trucks and utility vehicles come speeding into the parking lot and slam to a stop feet from the entrance that Andrea had just gone into.

"Merle," Sophia hissed and he looked at her, gave a grimace and shook his head.

"Go… get somewhere and hide, don't worry bout Rick and the others, don't worry bout me. Git yerself safe."

Sophia shook her head. "Don't… please," she said.

"Have-ta, 'Phia. They's already seen me and I can keep 'em occupied long 'nough for Andrea to git back and notice."

Sophia frowned and he could see her eyes were watering.

"No worries, kid. Jus' git yerself safe," he said quickly, leaning in and down to give her a quick kiss on the forehead.

"I love you, Merle," she said softly before spinning and disappearing down the hallway to find somewhere to hide.

"Lova ya, 'Phia," Merle said quietly, even though she probably couldn't hear him anyway, as he exited back into the parking lot, letting the door shut behind him.

He raised his gun as he advanced on the men exiting the vehicles. It was a suicide mission, that's what he thought as he moved toward them. But he really didn't have a choice. They'd seen him… and only him so far. They'd assume he wasn't alone – he surely couldn't drive both the cars him and the others had driven in with by himself – but at least he could keep whoever these fuckbags were occupied for a bit.

"Hold it right there, asshole," a man said from the backseat of one of the vehicles, he was leaning out of the car, a rifle trained on Merle.

"Been shot before, dickweed," Merle muttered to himself and didn't even hesitate, he reared back with his fist, headed straight toward the driver exiting that closest vehicle and cold-cocked him upside the head. There might have been a gun shot, Merle didn't notice, but suddenly at least 3 men were on him, swarming from all sides of the vehicle.

He stayed on his feet, smashed one man in the face with his stump, not even wincing when his nerve endings protested as he slammed it again into another man against the side of his head. It was a flurry of activity as he battled them, outnumbered, unsteady on his feet as he realized that he may have in fact been shot.

He heard gunshots from behind as Andrea must have finally returned, he spun fast, away from the man he was grappling with, saw another man advancing on Andrea and Merle raised his gun without a thought and shot Andrea's pursuer through the head. Andrea glanced his way and their eyes met for a second, before her face contorted and she went to shout to him at the same time that something large hit the back of his head, blackening out the world.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N – Finally! An update! It felt a long time coming. I was working on another story pretty steadily and then I had a vacation and it was next to impossible to write for a couple days. I hope you like this one! Thank you so much for reading and for reviewing if you do! I appreciate it so very much!**

**On a side note, I don't know if anyone likes dark poetry anymore, but it has been a lifelong dream of mine to publish a collection of a little more than 130 poems I've written. I wrote them all a while back and had been holding on to them, not really sure if I should ever do something with it. I finally just decided to take a chance and upload them onto Barnes and Noble and also Amazon to publish them as an ebook. They're published under a pseudonym that I came up with and the title of the book is **_**Memoirs of a Broken Girl: Happiness Beyond**_**. They are probably an acquired taste as the majority of them are fairly dark in theme. If you have any interest in learning more, let me know and I'll send you the link. **

**Thanks again for reading! You're all awesome!**

Chapter 16 - Trapped like a Rat

"Oh crap, oh crap," Sophia muttered under her breath as she hurried down the hallway away from Merle. He'd told her to go, to get somewhere safe. And yet somehow she felt like she was a coward... running to hide when everyone else was at risk.

_You're just doing what you were told_, she reasoned.

_But I have to do something_... She skidded to a halt when she heard voices at the end of the hall.

"Move your pansy fuckin asses!," a male voice hollered, and Sophia could hear movement ahead of her. On instinct, she grabbed the handle of a door to her right, twisted to no avail – locked. She looked to her left, another door… this handle turned smoothly in her small hand and she ducked inside the darkened room.

She heard the shuffling of feet and crouched down to peer through the keyhole below the doorknob. Two men dressed in black were pushing Hershel and Rick forward, guns pointed at their backs; a third man had an arm wrapped around Beth, with a gun pressed to the side of her head. As they passed directly in front of the door, Hershel must have turned his head to check on Beth and was rewarded by the side of the man behind's gun being slammed into the back of his head.

"Fuckin' move, old man!," the man behind Hershel hissed, and Hershel stumbled forward, one hand now on the back of his head where he was struck.

"What about the kid?," the second man behind Rick asked, glancing at the man holding Beth.

_The kid? CARL! _

"Fuckin leave his ass," the man holding Beth snapped, "and shut your piehole about any kid… Blake don't like loose ends."

"Don't matter," Sophia heard one of them say, "he's gonna have us search the place somethin' thorough… we'll find the little fucker."

She waited in the darkness, one hand on the doorknob, the side of her face leaning against the cool metal of the door. After a few moments, only silence greeted her from the hallway. She turned the knob, and slipped back out in the empty hallway. She hurried down the hall opposite of where the men had been going.

When she reached the room at the other end, it was full of weapons, shelves and cases of guns and knives, and other weaponry. "Carl!," she hissed under her breath, moving around the room and searching. There was a pair of doors at one end of the room. One was unlocked and empty. The other was locked. She bit her lip, glanced around. She spotted a gun on the floor, underneath a gun cabinet that lay several feet away. It almost looked like it might have skidded there after being dropped. Or maybe kicked from the hands of its owner.

She went to it, crouched beside it as she picked it up. She wasn't comfortable with a gun yet, but Merle had shown her a few things. She checked the chamber to see there were four rounds there. The gun was heavy in her hand, and she wasn't at all sure she could take the recoil of the weapon if she had to shoot it. Nonetheless, she kept it in her grasp as she stood up, clicking the safety off… just in case.

She heard a door slam somewhere outside of this room, and somehow Sophia just knew it was them… it was them coming from outside of the building to start searching. She scurried to the doors, went to turn the knob of the unlocked door, and then hesitated. She glanced at the locked door, moved in front of it.

She rapped twice on the locked door, softly, and whispered with her face up against the door, "Carl?"

There was a sound of gunfire from the hallway that adjoined the other side of the room.

"Carl?," she said, her voice a little louder as she tapped her knuckles against the door.

She could hear the echo of footsteps from somewhere behind her, and she grimaced, went to move to the unlocked room, but was interrupted by the sound of a click from the door in front of her. She heard the tumbler of the lock slip free as it was unlocked from the inside. She grabbed the knob at the same time that the door was opening and she didn't hesitate, didn't even ponder any other possibility other than that this was Carl and she was going inside that room; she pushed her way in and the door swung open as she ducked into the room.

She shut the door behind her, and leaned against it. The room was dark, and she waited for her eyes to adjust.

"Lock it," Carl hissed, as he came into view in front of her. Her hand went automatically to the knob and she slipped the lock back into place with a satisfying click.

"God, Carl, could you have taken any longer?!," she hissed back at him.

Carl shrugged awkwardly; cast his eyes down for a moment before looking back at her. "I wasn't sure it was you," he said plainly.

"Who'd you think it was? The fucking Easter Bunny?," she snapped, her voice going up an octave before she realized and quickly lowered it.

"I dunno… it could have been them…"

Sophia shook her head in anger, and a little bit from fear and anxiety at the situation. "Use your head dumbo; if it was them, they wouldn't be knocking, they'd have already shot straight through the door."

She whipped around then putting her back to Carl and crouching down to peer through the slim space at side of the door. She could see people moving around the main room, their features weren't clear but she could tell that they all wore black and their movements told her they were searching with a purpose.

"Fuck," she breathed and turned to face Carl. "We can't stay here…"

"Where are we supposed to go?," Carl asked snappishly, motioning around the secured room with only one entrance and exit.

She shot him a look, and glanced around the room in the dark. She slipped the safety back on the gun in her hand and tucked it into her pants. She heard footsteps right outside of the door, and took a silent step forward into the middle of the small room.

On the other side of the door, someone tried the knob.

That's when she saw it… on the ceiling, a heating and cooling duct, the vent wasn't large, but it was probably large enough for her and Carl. The vent was directly above a bookshelf against the wall, and within seconds she was scrambling up the shelf, her fingers exploring the vent cover. It was loose, a miracle in and of itself.

Carl seemed to be on the same page as he climbed the shelf behind her.

"Careful," she hissed as a book clattered to the floor knocked free by Carl.

The rattling of the doorknob was more frantic now, and she thought she heard the click of a gun safety. Just then, the vent cover came free and hinged open.

"Come on!," she said, and crawled up into the small space. Carl was on her heels and she heard the creak of him shutting the vent cover behind him.

Gunfire came from below as someone fired shots through the closed door and into the room.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N – Let's recap before digging into this update. I know this story is a little slow in pace because I have 4 main characters and I'm trying to keep the chapters - Carol, Daryl, Merle, Sophia as we go. We are picking up with Carol here, which takes off right after Daryl kissed her while they were locked in the freezer and the Governor interrupted. **

**I want to thank all of you for your reviews since the last chapter! Your support has meant so much after I received a bad review (I hesitate to call it simply bad because it felt more spiteful than anything else). Those of you who responded to that review and gave me support on Twitter really made me smile and I'm so glad that I have all of you in my life. **

**Special thanks to spygrrl99, Daryl'sVixon, hockeydrmr9, love2chuck, SOA loving mom, TrixPandawan, Emberka-2012, MarionArnold, Sinister Attraction, hopelesslydevoted2svu, LopezG, and all the other great reviewers and readers out there. I really appreciate all your kind words. **

**As a reminder to anyone new who clicks into this chapter – this story is a continuation of a Merle & Sophia story (Unexpected Allies) and so the characters and situations are AU and have evolved differently from the show because different circumstances make for different people at times. **

**And now to our regularly scheduled programming… :)**

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Chapter 17

Something about the way this man introduced himself, the way his lips curled into a sneer of a smile, the way he enunciated the words "Governor of Woodbury", dragging them out as if they were as important as say the President of the United States had once been; it made Carol's blood run cold.

Just moments ago, her face had been flushed as Daryl had been kissing her, as she had mashed her lips back against his, her hand clutching his shirt at his chest, her other hand feeling the lean sinewy muscles of his back. And then the freezer door opened and she couldn't imagine anything ever being the same again.

Carol's first thought after Daryl shoved her behind him and stepped forward toward the Governor was about Sophia - _where was Sophia_? Her second thought was that these people weren't friendly, and nothing she or Daryl said or did at this point was going to help in this situation. She spotted Andrea held tightly by a large dark man, one of his hands clasped over her face as she struggled against him, fear in her eyes.

"Fuck off, ain't yer fuckin business who I am," Daryl growled at the man standing in front of them.

The Governor raised an eyebrow, glanced back at his men in the doorway and said with a flourish, "Oh look here, we've got ourselves a bonafide redneck hero… now that's original."

Carol sensed Daryl tense, his body trembling with anger as he gathered himself to go after this man, and she moved her hand automatically to his arm, her fingers landing there gently. They were outnumbered, trapped in the freezer with more men outside in the other room.

"Don't," she said softly, feeling him hesitate, his body stilling at her touch.

"Oh yes, listen to the little woman, she's clearly got the brains in this relationship," the Governor jeered.

Carol stepped forward so that she could speak right into Daryl's ear, her body flush against his back, and she whispered, "There's nothing we can do, Daryl… not here, not like this… we've got to get out of this room first." Daryl's nod was imperceptible to anyone but her.

Daryl raised his chin and eyed the Governor.

The Governor smiled, "why don't we go outside, regroup… we can have a chat with your friends."

The Governor turned his back and before Carol could even blink Daryl had rushed him, cold-cocking him in the back of his head and knocking him forward.

Men swarmed inside the tiny freezer, grabbing at Daryl as Carol backed up away from it all and Daryl cast her a quick glance as he elbowed a man in the face, "get out of here! Run!," he yelled.

Carol scooted around the crowd of grappling men and out the door where Andrea had wrestled free from her own captor and was in the midst of fighting. Andrea's back was to Carol and there was a man who came from behind and grabbed Andrea's arms, pulling her back and off the man who had held Andrea before.

Carol spotted a frying pan not far from where she stood on the wall, grabbed it, and swung with all the strength she could muster, slamming the pan against the head of the man who had grabbed Andrea. The man teetered and Andrea broke free, slamming the jut of her hip into the man's crotch.

"Get out of here," Andrea hissed at Carol, grabbing a gun from the dazed man on the floor.

"I… I can't…," Carol argued.

"Go!," Andrea said harshly, "I've got Daryl… the others are outside."

Carol hesitated and Andrea gave her a look. Carol turned and took off through the building.

The situation was even direr outside as walkers and Governor's men were swarming and attacking Rick and Hershel; Merle was unconscious on the ground, blood glistening around his head; and Beth was on the ground, seated with her back to a car, her eyes wide, her face impossibly white, a grizzly and gaping bullet wound to the chest. Carol breached the door to see all of this before she was grabbed from behind by a man who put his lips to her ear and hissed, "hold up there, sweet lips." She felt the gun press to her temple and she felt herself swallow a small sob.

The gun was gone for a second as the man pointed it to the sky and let off a round, stopping all the action as Rick put down the final walker on the scene with a knife and turned to see all the attention focused on the man who held Carol.

She winced as he pushed the gun back into the side of her head harshly. She was yanked sideways as he moved away from the others, pulling her from the front of the building as the front door opened and Daryl and Andrea stepped out alone, clearly in a hurry, and obviously surprised by what they'd stumbled into.

"Let 'er go," Daryl growled immediately, "we outnumber ya now."

"Tut, tut, tut," the man behind Carol clucked, the gun digging further into her, "sorry to disappoint, hot shot, but you'll never outnumber us." The man's voice was menacing, and movement on the other side of the building got everyone's attention as a slew of men exited from the other entrance, all brandishing guns as they whooped and hollered about something.

"All clear on that side, Austin," one of the men running up called out to the man holding Carol.

The door that Daryl and Andrea stood in front of banged open, slamming Andrea in the head and she went to her knees. The men who they thought they had dispatched inside by the freezer came out in a hurry, a dark man – the same one who had held Andrea captive earlier – checked Daryl hard with his shoulder before all but slamming him to the ground. She heard Daryl's grunt in frustration and pain as his body connected with the hard gravelly ground.

"Fucking redneck piece of shit," the dark man sneered angrily, kicking Daryl in the side not once, but twice.

"Stop!," Carol screamed involuntarily with the second kick.

It was then the Governor stepped out of the building, brushing himself off as he did so. He seemed to stop, sigh, and survey the scene.

"You people just can't make things easy, can you?," he muttered. Then he looked at the men who had come from the other side of the building. "Martinez," he barked, "did you find the kids?"

"They're dead, sir," the man called Martinez responded without hesitating.

Carol felt something inside of her break as she screamed, "Nooooo!," and started to sob, her body going weak and dead weight in the arms of the man called Austin, who still held her to him, the gun still pressed to her head.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N – Hope you like! Thank you for your reviews! I always appreciate them! Your support for this story has been wonderful and I can't tell you how amazing I think you all are. **

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Chapter 18

Daryl was shoved forward, a large hand on the back of his neck, a gun at his back.

"Get the fuck off me," Daryl growled jerking his body forward and away from the asshole that had pushed him.

"Then move your fucking ass," was the response from the asshole behind him.

He whipped his eyes over to Rick who looked destroyed, his eyes glossy, his face sunken, his expression desperate. Rick mouthed a word at Daryl – "Carl?", and Daryl shook his head. He had no way of knowing... none of them had any way of knowing.

Daryl was being corralled towards the vehicles that were now open and waiting for occupants. He glanced over at the man who was half-pulling, half-dragging Carol toward one of the cars. She'd gone dead weight in the man's grip at the news that the kids might be dead… that Sophia might be dead. _Sophia is dead… _the thought lingered in Daryl's brain, clouding his judgment as he moved reluctantly toward the SUV. He had a bad taste in his mouth. This wasn't right, going along with these men willingly… they should be fighting… they should be doing _something_.

But he hadn't been able to bring himself to move after he and Andrea had stepped out into the parking lot and seen Carol with the gun pressed to her temple. He'd hesitated and that had been all that was needed for the men to know they had them… for the men to know that no one was going to step out of line as long as they held Carol.

Movement to his side caught his attention and Daryl turned his head to see Hershel rip himself free from the gaggle of men surrounding both him and Rick.

Hershel fell to his knees where Beth was on the ground her back against one of the cars, her eyes closed, the gaping wound at her chest a mess of blood and marred flesh, her shirt stained bloody, her face pale. Hershel gathered her to him, his arms encircling his daughter as he pulled her close. Beth's eyes fluttered and Daryl realized she wasn't dead.

"Da—ddy," Beth choked out her eyes focusing on her father as Hershel made a strangled sound in the back of his throat.

"I'm here, Bethie, daddy's here," Hershel said, one of his hands going to smooth the hair off her face.

"I'm dy—ing, Daddy," Beth's voice was soft as Daryl strained to hear. He'd stopped moving, transfixed by the scene.

Hershel's eyes filled with tears as he looked desperately at Beth. "No, baby, you're not dying… you don't get to die today," he said, his voice pleading.

Beth shook her head, a tear traced a path down her face and she squeezed her eyes shut before opening them again.

"I lo—ve you, Daddy… I…tell Mag—," Beth started to say before she started to shake, as her body started to jerk convulsively.

"She's having a seizure, I need help over here," Hershel called out, yelling as Daryl heard the Governor speak.

"Can you _do_ something about this, Martinez?," the Governor said, his tone sounding bored, punctuating the sentence with an exaggerated yawn.

The man named Martinez and another man grabbed Hershel by the arms, pulling him up as another man grabbed for Beth's now only twitching body, separating the two.

Daryl moved fast in an effort to get to Hershel as he was dragged screaming from his daughter. The man behind him went to grab for Daryl's arm but he jerked away fast, spinning to face the man, his eyes glaring.

The back of his head seemed to explode in pain and his vision went a piercing, blinding white as someone brought the butt of a gun down into Daryl's head. Daryl fell involuntarily to one knee, and then he heard the voice of the Governor right beside him, in his ear.

"Hey, hot shot, what exactly was your plan there? Let me just assure that it wouldn't have worked; whatever it _was_, it wouldn't have worked. I won't hesitate to put a bullet in your face, friend, but before I do, I'll be sure to put a bullet in the little woman's face first." There was no malice in the man's tone… he was just matter-of-fact and somehow Daryl found that even more chilling. Malice was something Daryl could understand; hate, ignorance, greed, desperation, rage… evil that bore an associated emotion was easier to understand than evil that grew out of nothing, evil that just simply existed.

"Do you feel like behaving _now_?," the Governor said softly. And though it pained Daryl to do it, he nodded; his eyesight still hazy but focused on Carol standing beside the vehicle, gun to her head, her eyes locked on him, her face soaked from her tears, and her expression miserable. He would have done anything in that moment to erase the pain on her face; but he knew there was nothing that he could do at this point other than simply keep her alive.

"Good," the Governor said almost cheerfully.

Daryl was pulled up by the arms and moved forcefully toward the vehicle that Carol stood by. He glanced down at where Merle's body still lay as they passed it.

"What are we doing with this one?," Martinez said stopping beside Merle's still body and crouching down. Martinez put two fingers to Merle's neck, his eyes flickering to Daryl as he did it. Martinez's eyes were full of arrogance and Daryl felt a flash of hatred in his gut for this man as he spoke – "Pulse is weak…"

"Put a bullet in his brain then and load up, Martinez, no need to be fucking sentimental about it," the Governor responded as he slid into the driver's seat of one of the vehicles.

Daryl was grabbed by the back of the neck at the same time that he went to turn, went to protest about Merle, and suddenly he was nose to barrel with a gun as the safety clicked off loudly.

"He's my brother," Daryl hissed. And Daryl meant it. For all the time that Daryl wanted to forget that, for all the time he hated his brother for things that Merle had done in the past – none of that changed the fact that they were brothers, that Merle was kin. Even if Daryl had wanted to kill Merle himself at times, there was no fucking way he was going to stand by and let someone else do it.

Martinez stood up and looked at Daryl, his gun at his side, pointed lazily in Merle's direction. Martinez turned his head toward the vehicle the Governor had gotten into, watched as the doors to the vehicle shut and the engine turned over, as the vehicle started to move. Martinez pursed his lips looking back at Daryl, and then he shrugged.

"Fucker's gonna bleed out anyway," Martinez muttered as he stepped away from Merle moving past Daryl, waving the man who had Daryl by the arm and back of the neck forward.

As Daryl got into the back seat of the car beside Carol, he glanced over at his brother's body lying on the ground, blood seeming to seep its way in a thick reddish-black puddle around Merle.

_Fuck, Merle… jus' fuck. I'm sorry, brother. _And he was sorry… when they'd left the group and the storage facility that afternoon, Daryl wouldn't have ever thought he'd be sorry when it came to Merle. He hadn't thought he'd ever be anything but angry at his brother. But Merle was dying, and he couldn't even be there with him while it happened. His eyes lingered on his brother, drinking in what he figured would be the last moment he ever saw Merle again.

And then a far off movement caught his eye, casting his gaze toward the building as the last car door shut beside him. As the car started to jerk forward exiting the lot, Daryl narrowed his eyes and saw what might have been Sophia in the doorway of the building, her hand on the door, eyes intent on the car watching them drive off, the shadow of what might have been Carl in his hat standing behind her.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N – Hope you like! No Daryl and Carol in this chapter, but we get some Merle and Sophia. Thank you for all the great reviews to the last chapter! You're all awesome! **

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Chapter 19

His eyes were heavy and he didn't seem to be able to open them. But bits and pieces of the action around him seemed to filter through.

"Did you find the kids?," someone said, a male voice._ The kids… 'Phia? _

"They're dead, sir," came a response from someone else, another male voice. _What?! 'Phia! _

"Noooooo!," that was Carol, he could hear the anguish in her voice before he slipped back into unconsciousness.

He felt someone touch his neck, cold fingers against his heated skin. He imagined that he batted away the hand, that he opened his eyes and punched whoever it was in the face… but his body didn't seem to want to cooperate.

"Pulse is weak…"

"Put a bullet in his brain then and load up…"

There were those voices again, seeping into the darkness and invading Merle's unconscious.

"He's my brother." That one was Daryl… Merle recognized the intensity, the resolve of the tone. There was an undercurrent of sadness to Daryl's words though. Merle wondered briefly if he was dead but could somehow still hear.

_Fuck nah. Ain't no dumbshit can kill a Dixon but a goddamn motherfuckin Dixon. Ain't dead yet, little brother._

Then he was in darkness and deafening silence again before he felt the rumble of the ground beneath him as vehicles drove across the lot and away from where he lay. There was wetness all around his head and he could smell the metallic coppery scent of blood. Clearly he'd been cracked on the head pretty bad.

"Merle! Wake up, Merle! Wake up!," he came awake to the sound of Sophia as she frantically tried to wake him, her hand slapping him in the cheek and her other hand jostling him by the shoulder.

He groaned loudly, his head ringing and protesting any movement or noise.

"Fuck!," he cussed under his next groan and then he felt his stomach clench at the same time that he rolled away – his eyes still closed – from Sophia to his side and vomited loudly on the gravel pavement beneath him.

"That can't be a good sign," Sophia muttered.

"I can't get Beth to wake up," Carl said nervously from about ten feet away.

Merle groaned and rolled over again laboriously so that he was staring up into Sophia's eyes as she leaned over him.

"Oh fuck, Merle, you scared the shit out of me," Sophia blurted out.

He almost laughed, his lips turned up into a smile despite the pain in his head and he muttered painfully, "yer momma would wash yer mouth out with soap if she heard you talkin' like tha'. Prob'ly fuckin wash my mouth out too."

Sophia smiled a bit sheepishly and then frowned. "You've lost a lot of blood."

"Head wound," he said, blinking the white lights and fuzziness from his vision.

Sophia's frown deepened and she looked puzzled.

"They bleed a lot," Merle clarified as he struggled himself up to a sitting position and Sophia backed up slightly so as not to crowd him. He raised his hand to his head and felt around. It was still sticky but the bulk of the bleeding seemed to have stopped.

A spell of dizziness overtook him as he sat up and he groaned again. He licked at his dry lips and looked at Sophia who was staring concernedly at him.

"Food?," he mumbled and Sophia shook her head before biting her lip.

"Wait!," she blurted as she scrambled to her feet and ran over to one of the vehicles nearby that they had originally taken to get here. She tried one of the doors to find it locked, but went to another door and found it open. She came back to Merle carrying what was left of a package of cookies along with a quarter-full bottle of water. "They were Carl's," she said as way of explanation as she offered them to Merle.

He had no way of knowing how much blood he'd lost, but he figured some food would help for now. Something to get his blood sugar up, to help his body replace what he'd lost.

"We've gotta get back to the camp and tell the others," Sophia said and Merle looked at her – his vision still blurry – as he chewed the last of the cookies in his mouth.

He nodded, made a movement to stand up and Sophia scrambled to her feet as he labored to stand.

He was wobbly on his feet and surveyed the scene. Sophia stood beside him and Carl was crouched over by Beth who was unconscious and still bleeding pretty profusely from a gaping chest wound.

Carl looked up and caught Merle's eye. "Is… is she… is she dead?," the boy's voice cracked on the last word and his eyes were searching Merle's for even a shred of hope.

"Prob'ly… fuckin' looks dead from 'ere," Merle muttered callously as a wave of dizziness and nausea shook its way through him.

"Merle!," Sophia chided and he glanced down at the girl before smirking slightly. If anyone else chided him like that, they'd get a faceful of stump or fist… but Sophia… fuck he was just glad she was alive.

_Alive? Wait… how?_

"How the fuck ya even 'ere?," Merle asked, "one of them fuckers said you was dead."

Sophia shook her head and smiled at him with pride, "we were hiding; I found a real good place to hide."

_Only a Dixon can kill a Dixon… and 'Phia… well she's a Dixon now._

Merle couldn't help the smile that crossed his lips. He moved over to Carl and the kid backed up as Merle crouched down to look at Beth.

His eyes met Sophia's and he shook his head.

He stood, and said softly to Carl, "She ain't gonn' make it."

"We have to take her with us," Sophia said abruptly.

Merle looked at her. "Cain't, 'Phia. She's a time bomb… she's gonna turn and if she does it in the car it ain't gonn' help us none."

"But Merle…"

His eyes hardened. "Don't you 'but Merle' me. We gots to focus on the living now. This is bout us, and bout gettin' back to the group so we can figure out who the fuck them people were and how to get Daryl and yer momma and Blondie and Officer fuckin' Friendly back."

"And Hershel," Carl said suddenly, his tone cold.

Merle glanced at Carl, "yea, yea, that one too," he muttered dismissively.

"Hershel's her father," Sophia said intently, "we can't just leave her here without trying to do something."

Merle sighed. "Phia…," he started.

"No! No, Merle!," Sophia said persistently, holding up her hand. "We have to take her with us."

"Fuck," Merle breathed out before rolling his eyes and snarling at Sophia. "Ya want 'er so bad, fine. But it's you two whose gonn' be liftin' her ass and druggin' her over to the car."

He was empty in his threats though. When Carl and Sophia struggled to lift Beth and get her into the waiting vehicle, Merle stomped over and helped, hooking the unconscious girl under her arms as Carl and Sophia grabbed her feet. The girl moaned once but didn't wake and Merle was sure that she'd be dead before they made it back to the others.

With Beth in the backseat, Carl climbed in with her and Merle showed him how to hold a bunched-up spare cloth to her chest to staunch the blood flow. _Prob'ly the kid's first time coppin' a feel._

"Keep yer gun on 'er too, case she turns," Merle muttered to him brashly as he shut the door and turned to see Sophia standing in front of him.

"Wha?," he snapped, agitated by the pain in his head and the fact that he had no idea how they were going to dig their way out of this shit and save the others.

Sophia threw her arms around his waist and hugged him tight without warning. "I was afraid you were dead," she said, her tone laced with anxiety now, all that brazen confidence about bringing Beth along gone now. She glanced up at him. "My mom?," she asked fearfully.

Merle sighed, "we gonn' get 'er." He tried to make his voice confident as he said it, even though his brain wasn't as convinced as he wanted it to be.

As he stepped away from Sophia, his vision went black for a moment and he felt himself start to fall to the ground. He blinked furiously and landed on his knees, pain shooting up his thighs. He grabbed his head and moaned.

Sophia was looking at him when he raised his eyes to her. Understanding seemed to dawn in her eyes at the same time he realized it as well.

"You can't drive," she said softly.

Merle frowned.

Sophia nodded resignedly. "Okay… okay," she said softly, "I'll do it."

With Merle in the front passenger seat and Sophia in the driver's seat – the steering wheel lowered as low as it could go, the seat pulled forward as far as possible – he watched her turn the engine over and slide the car into drive.

"And we're off like a herd-a-turtles," Merle muttered under his breath as the car jerked forward awkwardly, as they headed out of the parking lot and toward the storage facility where they would return to the others considerably less whole than when they'd left.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N – Well holy snitbells, I've finally updated. :) Oh I've missed you all so much! It's a short update, but I really want to get past this point and move forward to what's going on with Carol and Daryl. Hope you like! **

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Chapter 20

"Jesus Christ Carl!," Sophia snapped, as she paced back and forth in front of the room where Merle and Beth had been taken. The door was shut with Lori and Maggie inside at the moment.

Merle had passed out about halfway to the storage facility and Carl and Sophia had been on their own trying to find the place. When they'd finally found it, Sophia was so glad that she'd hit the horn half a dozen times to get their attention before even considering the ruckus she was creating and the miscreants she could draw in while she was doing it.

T-Dog and Michonne had done the heavy lifting – getting Merle inside, and then Beth who was so still you'd think she was already dead but somehow she wasn't.

The pent-up energy and adrenaline was coursing its way through Sophia now and when Carl had told her to just sit down, she'd snapped, the words coming out before she even realized they were coming.

Carl got up off the floor as Sophia breezed past him again, three steps, and then spun on her heel to pace back the other way.

"Stop," Carl said, his voice forceful as he grabbed for Sophia's arm.

"What!?," Sophia hissed, yanking her arm from his grasp, her eyes flashing angrily, "what do you _want_ me to do? Sit here? Sit down on the goddamn floor and do nothing? My mom and the others are who the hell knows where, and Merle… Merle could be dead and they're making me sit out here and wait. So, stop _what_, Carl? You tell me how to _stop._"

And then she felt his hand around her arm again and she was pulled forward slightly and suddenly Carl's arms were around her as he hugged her close to him. And she didn't feel like a twelve-year-old girl being hugged by a twelve-year-old boy. She didn't feel like Sophia being hugged by Carl, who was her friend before she'd gotten lost, and was still her friend now even though she didn't really know how to act around him anymore, and he was more infuriating than not more than half the time he was around.

She was just acutely aware of the way one of his hands rubbed her back, and the way their bodies were pressed up against each other so hard that it almost hurt to be that close when they were both still so young and bony. And she heard his too-young but trying to be older voice as he said softly, his voice pleading and real close to her ear, "it's going to be alright, Sophia, it's going to be alright."

And she remembered that she wasn't the only one with a parent missing, she wasn't the only one with something to lose. Rick was gone too, taken by whoever those men were that had hurt Beth and Merle and left them to die, taken to who could possibly know where with her mom, Daryl, Hershel, and Andrea.

So she nodded, moved her head up and down complacently at Carl's words, letting her chin bump against the top of his shoulder.

"I'm okay," Sophia said softly because she didn't really know what else to say. Carl let his arms drop to the side and she stepped back and away from him, her eyes hesitating before they rose to meet his.

"I'm sorry about your dad," she said as their eyes met.

Carl nodded. "I'm sorry about your mom… and… um… about Merle." He looked forlorn as he said it and a bit like he wanted to say more.

Suddenly Sophia felt sorry for all the times she'd snapped at Carl, for all the times she'd acted mean to him when she hadn't really had a reason to do it. "I'm sorry I haven't been nicer to you… it's just… sometimes you're kind of annoying… I mean… I mean you're my friend, and I like you, but sometimes…" Sophia trailed off, she was bungling this up and she could feel it the moment she started talking. Her face grew hot as she glanced down at her feet.

Carl made a sound that was almost a scoff and almost a giggle. "You know, you're a lot like Merle now. You aren't like you were before you got lost," he said.

Sophia frowned and looked back up at him. "What was I like before?"

Now it was Carl's turn to blush a rosy pink and he shrugged, his eyes holding her gaze a little too intently and she was suddenly glad for the interruption as the door beside them opened.

"Sophia?," Lori's voice came through before she ducked her head around the side of the door that had opened.

"I'm here," Sophia said quickly.

Lori smiled thinly, "he's awake, and cranky, and he's asking for you."

Sophia moved quietly into the room. Her eyes moved first to Maggie who was tending to a very pale and tiny-looking Beth. Their eyes caught and Sophia furrowed her brow – a question unasked.

Maggie grimaced slightly before saying, "she's holding on… for now."

"It's 'lways bout the fuckin broads, ain't it?," came a gruff voice from the other side of the room and Sophia smiled automatically. "Ol' Merle's 'ere to ya know… and my fuckin head hurts like it's shittin' bricks."

Sophia moved quickly to his side where he lay on a table they were using as a makeshift bed and her eyes were glossy and worried even as she tried for them not to be.

"I know," Sophia said simply. She always knew he was there, the whole time she was waiting she didn't once forget that Merle was there and that Merle could've or could be dying.

Merle's face cracked into an offbeat smile and he nodded. If she didn't know better she'd think from the look in his eyes that Merle Dixon was choked up.

"Maybe you's the only one, girl," Merle said after a moment and Sophia leaned down and hugged him. She felt Merle's good hand come up and pat her back and she smiled into his shoulder.

She pulled back and posed the question that was drilled into her brain and had been ever since she'd left that parking lot and headed towards the storage facility.

"What are we going to do?"


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N – I'll keep the author's note short but I wanted to say HI! I've been super busy and haven't had any time to write but I promise to try to be more diligent about updating. I'm trying… bear with me. :) If you've forgotten where we are – Carol, Daryl, Rick, Andrea, and Hershel have all been taken by the Governor's men. They were forced to leave behind Merle (believed dying) and Beth (dying) and Carl and Sophia whom they were told were dead by Martinez one of the Governor's men. Now WE know that Carl and Sophia are very much alive, as are Merle and Beth (for the moment), but remember that Carol does not. Hope you like! **

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Chapter 21

_Sophia is dead… Sophia is dead… dead… dead… dead… Sophia…Sophia is dead… no, no, no, no, no, no…_

Her head felt foggy as the vehicle jostled its way down a dirt road that looked far too narrow for any vehicle to fit, but somehow supported all of the Governor's vehicles as they muddled their way through.

She was aware of Daryl beside her, of the way he shifted in the seat awkwardly, the way his hand patted her arm to get her attention, but she ignored him.

_Sophia…_

"_Martinez," the governor barked, "did you find the kids?" _

"_They're dead, sir," Martinez said. _

And Carol felt another piece of her die in that moment. She'd thought she'd lost Sophia before, she'd thought once that her daughter was dead; it felt like ages ago… and somehow – through the grace of the most unlikely hero ever, Merle Dixon – Sophia had come back to her. Sophia had been alive. Sophia had been okay. She couldn't possible get that lucky again.

_Sophia… is… dead. _

Carol felt cold, distant, almost as if she wasn't even there… in that vehicle, riding toward whatever fate awaited, with Daryl sitting beside her, the only warmth she felt coming from the side of his leg pressed tightly against hers as the vehicle shook and rattled underneath them. Her chest was tight, heavy, as if there was something on it, or within it, that grew and expanded and weighed her down. Her whole body felt icy, cold and slow, unresponsive, and her mind was stuck on one thought – _Sophia is dead_.

* * *

It was Daryl's arm that slid around her waist as she went to stand getting out of the car and her legs nearly buckled beneath her. It was just her and Daryl and the Governor and his men. There might have been protest from the Governor or his men at Daryl's grip on her, but all she could concentrate on was the feel of his arm across her waist, warm in contrast to the icy chill that seemed to have overtaken her whole body, the tickle of his arm hair as her shirt bunched slightly and his arm grazed her bared skin.

"Come on now, Carol, ya gotta help me out 'ere," his voice was urgent and whispery in her ear.

"But…," she mumbled, the words dying on her lips before she could even speak them. She could almost see herself through Daryl's eyes as she finally lifted her gaze to truly meet his. She must be pale, drawn, her eyes dead and vacant… she had become old, weathered. Okay, she'd been old for much longer than today, but her daughter was dead _and this time for real_, and now nothing could touch the "old" that she felt now.

Something in his eyes flickered – a recognition – and she opened her mouth to speak, to say the words… _Sophia… is… dead… _but instead she felt the warmth of his lips come down on her, as he crushed his mouth against her own, the heat of him seeming to give breath and life to her at the same time.

She felt a strange hand grab the back of her neck as she was yanked backward harshly, the kiss broken between her and Daryl, and she struggled forward at the same time, at odds with the force pulling her back, reaching with her hand splayed and grabbing for Daryl's hand as he reached for hers.

"Get the fuck off me!," Daryl bellowed with rage as his fingers caught hold of Carol's, intertwining, giving him the grip he needed, the strength he needed to break free from the hold that the man named Martinez had on him.

Carol surged forward toward Daryl as he did toward her, breaking free from the grip of whoever it was that had grabbed her and pulled her from the kiss, and then they were face-to-face again as Daryl put a hand on the back of her head and drew her in so that their mouths were inches from one another, his eyes locked on hers.

"She's not dead."

The whispered urgency of his tone struck a cord somewhere deep within her and she felt her own icy desperation at losing Sophia again swell and shatter with just the simple force of his words.

Daryl's eyes searched hers for a moment, seeking that she understood, that she knew, that she was okay, and then he seemed to find satisfaction there – he nodded and released her, stepping back and turning almost abidingly to look at Martinez.

The sound of a throat clearing brought Carol back to reality. The whole scene had transpired in under a minute and she had felt entranced, broken off from where they stood, surrounded by strangers with guns in a clearing amongst the woods, the gate before them looming large and formidable.

It was the Governor who cleared his throat and she looked at him, standing steady on her two feet again.

The Governor smiled. "Well that was all very… touching… but I've got places to be. Martinez, take these two lovebirds to their new _home_. Then help Wolf get the others from the other vehicle."

The gate creaked loudly and started to move inward, to open up and reveal what waited beyond. Carol held her breath, her head turning to catch Daryl's eye, and he nodded to her, an unspoken reassurance that somehow it was going to be okay.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N – Thank you, thank you, thank you for the great reviews so far! It always just amazes me that you're all still here and reading. Please read and review! Hugs to all!**

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Chapter 22

"Welcome to Woodbury," the Governor said with a flourish, his eyes flashing to Daryl's momentarily. He winked.

_The fucker goddamn winked…_

And then the Governor slipped off in the darkness leaving Daryl and Carol alone with his men.

Martinez moved the butt of his gun forward slamming it into the back of Carol's skull and Daryl erupted with fury, rushing towards him as he was grabbed at the same time and yanked back. He watched trembling as Carol sank to the ground, compliant and unconscious as Martinez moved grabbing her by the waist and lifting her up over his shoulder.

The man moved forward until he was nose to nose with Daryl. Daryl felt the fury rolling off him in waves, his body coiled, held back but tight with anger and anxiety.

"Settle down, redneck, your little lady's fine," Martinez said with a sneer before flicking his gaze to whomever was holding Daryl back. "Let's put these two up in the Gray tower, and keep the others in the Black house." He met Daryl's eyes again and raised an eyebrow at his expression. "You be good now, or things won't go so well for the lady here… if you get my meaning."

Daryl lifted a lip in response and glared. He was pulled sideways by the man with the strong grip on his arm and then a black cloth bag was pulled over his head so that all he could see was darkness.

He stumbled forward at someone's prodding, completely blind to his surroundings.

* * *

Daryl fell forward at the shove, slamming nearly face down onto what felt like concrete beneath his hands. _Fuck_, he groaned inwardly as pain shot through his temple where his head had connected hard with the ground.

_Had-ta lose wha'ever brain cells I fuckin had left wit' that one. _

He must have passed out because when he came to, he was bound up – hogtied in the back. His hands tied behind his back and his ankles tied as well.

_Fuck me tha' hurts… woman… where is ya… fuckin assholes…ain't this jus' what I git… _His thoughts were jumbled, disconnected…

A groan from beside him brought him back. He writhed slightly, still in the dark from the hood over his face, and rubbed his head against the concrete in an effort to pull up the hood. His arm brushed against something or someone and he said automatically, "Carol?"

"Ughrhrhrh," he heard her groan softly, and he wrenched his wrist trying to twist free or at least loosen the ropes that bound his hands behind his back.

"Sonovafuckinbitchcocksuckers sonovafuckinI'mgonn'killthesefuckers," he cursed under his breath. He tried another tack, rolling uncomfortably onto his back and then over again to his side. He sucked a piece of the hood into his mouth and bit down, inching his body down as he did, holding his head still against the floor. With some effort, he felt the hood start to drag up and he kept inching, kept wriggling down on the floor until he had slid it up high enough on the side that he could drop the piece of fabric between his teeth and pull his head out from under the hood.

He was facing Carol. His stomach wrenched as his eyes surveyed her. He had no way of knowing how long he'd been unconscious, but what he saw now wasn't what he remembered of the last moment he'd seen her before they put the hood over his face.

One side of her face was swollen – she'd be lucky if she could open the eye when she finally woke up. There was a gash on the other side of her face – a split on her cheek that ran nearly from the top of her earlobe down to just below her lower lip. It was bloody and raw.

"Oh Lord, Carol…," the words escaped his mouth without thought and at once her eyes – or at least the one – started to flutter. She couldn't open the one that was swollen shut, but the other came open and alive and she looked at him.

"Daryl…," she said her voice searching and earnest. There was a gratefulness behind her gaze. There were no tears in her eye when she looked at him – just raw, honest emotion. "Are you okay?"

"Fuck… am I okay? Fuck, woman, I'm fi-ne, but ya… hell… shit, ya shouldn't even be askin' bout me… are ya okay? I mean… fuck… fuckin look at ya, look at wha' those pigfuckers done." His words were a mess, a jumble, and he could hear the anxiety in his tone even as he tried to stifle it.

And she smiled. It wasn't a pretty smile, only the unswollen half of her lips turned up with it, and he saw the wince flash fleeting in her eye as the split skin of her cheek protested, but it was a smile. Her teeth were stained a slight pink from blood, but her open eye was clear and dry.

"I'm so glad you're awake," she said softly.

"Who did this?," he said then, his voice cold.

Carol frowned. "I'll live, Daryl, you hear me – I'll live. Let's figure a way out of this… okay?" It was on the second "I'll live" that he saw it, the sorrow in her eyes, the worry about something that she wasn't telling, that he didn't know.

He nodded because he didn't know what else to do, and glanced down at her hands.

"Ya ain't bound?," he questioned as he saw her hands, scraped up and a little bloody. Her arms were crossed over her knees, hugging them to her where she lay on the ground facing him. It was a protective position; he recognized it.

She shook her head slowly. "No… they… no, they didn't… ummm… they didn't tie my hands." She didn't say anything further and didn't try to move so he wondered how hurt she really was. He wondered what he didn't know.

He rolled over so that his back was to her, tried to position himself so that his bindings were as close to her as possible so that she wouldn't have to move too much to try and untie him.

He felt the movement as her fingers brushed across the side of his hand and went to work at the ropes; he sensed the hesitation she had when it came to touching him, when it came to actual skin to skin contact. Hesitation that wouldn't have been there normally.

"How… how long was I out?," he asked softly, squeezing his eyes shut as he said it. He had failed her. He knew. He knew what had happened… she wouldn't say it, he knew she'd never say it, even if he asked…but he knew. And he had failed her. He hadn't been strong enough… hadn't been tough enough. He had failed.

_Merle coulda done it, Merle wouldn'ta failed 'er_… the thought was unbidden, unwelcome, but it barraged him anyway. Maybe he was wrong, or maybe he was right, but somehow he couldn't help the nagging feeling that if it had been Merle here instead of him, well, Carol might've been okay. _Merle's prob'ly dead now… _

"Half the day… I think," came her response and he stilled himself to avoid the tremble that he felt begin in his gut. A person could miss a lot in half a day.

There was a release of tension as the ropes came loose from his wrists and his ankles, and he automatically made a fist and rolled his wrist to crack it. The back of his hand collided with what must have been Carol's palm and he heard the sharp intake of breath she took as she yanked her hand away, pulling her hands tight against her body, gripping her hands together with anxiety.

Daryl sat up, stretched, and looked down at her. She had pulled herself back into that protective position again, her hands gripped together tightly as she hugged her knees. She lifted her face somewhat off the concrete ground. Her swollen eye opened slightly so that he was looking into both eyes; one the same clear, dry, wary look of honest emotion, and the other reddened and bruised beneath the swelling of her skin.

"Oh Lord, Carol," he said, reaching down to trace her lower jaw on the unswollen side of her face with his thumb, and she flinched as the pad of his thumb grazed her still soft, unblemished jaw, her eyes squeezing shut. _I'm sorry, woman._ He couldn't say the words, they wouldn't come. He had failed her, but he couldn't say the words.

"Hey," he said instead, his voice a little harsher than intended and she opened her eyes again at the brusqueness. "They gonn' pay for this… for wha' they done… don't ya worry, woman. I'm 'ere, yer safe now, and they're gonn' pay."


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N – I've added a new POV… but I felt like it was necessary. In the next chapter, we'll finally check in with Merle, Sophia, and the others. **

**To recap, Carol, Daryl, Rick, Andrea, and Hershel have all been taken by the Governor and his men. Carol and Daryl are being kept separately from Rick, Andrea, and Hershel somewhere in Woodbury. **

**Merle, Sophia, Carl, and (a still somewhat alive) Beth are all back with the others in the storage facility thanks to Sophia's halting driving skills. I expect Merle and Sophia (and the others) should have a plan brewing soon. **

**Thank you to all my wonderful reviewers and readers! I really appreciate all your kind words. Special thanks to SOA loving mom for previewing this chapter for me to make sure it was okay! Hugs to all! **

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Chapter 23

"Goddammit!," Andrea shrieked as she pounded the side of her fists into the locked and very solid door. She rested her hands there a moment, feeling the soreness of her efforts, and then pushed off the door and stalked off to one side of the room, pacing the length of the wall before turning and heading back to the door.

She glanced at Rick who looked defeated sitting against the wall beside Hershel.

She huffed and stalked over to them. "Really? Really, you two? You're just going to sit here and mope instead of helping me?!"

Hershel raised his gaze from his blood-stained hands and looked into her eyes. "I just don't see the point anymore… it never gets any better for us and I'm tired of fighting… my Josie, my Annette, Shawn… Otis, Patricia… and now Bethie… I just ca—"

"No!," Andrea interrupted loudly, her eyes flashing angrily. "You don't get to do that, Hershel, it's not fair to your other daughter, it's not fair to the ones you lost, and it's certainly not fair to us."

"Andrea," Rick said with a hint of warning behind the words.

"No!," she said emphatically, her eyes flashing to Rick. "You don't get to do this either! Get up! Both of you! Now."

Rick shook his head, "you can't understand… Carl…"

"I don't understand?! I shot my sister in the head… oh I understand. I understand a friggen hell of a lot. Don't you tell me that I don't understand. I lost Amy. My baby _sister_. I lost Dale. The man kept me alive when I wanted to die. He bugged the ever living crap out of me sometimes but dammit, I loved him for it… and I didn't even get to tell him that. I lost Amy and I lost Dale, and I lost others, so don't you tell _me_ that I don't understand. But if we sit here and we mope about all the shit we've lost, then we might as well just kill ourselves right now. Now get up!"

She whirled away from them, her body tight with both fury and exhaustion. Then she spun around again, her eyes locking with Rick's.

"You don't even know if he's dead, Rick. Did you see a body? Because I sure as hell didn't. Some stranger with a gun and a God complex tells you your kid is dead and you just buy it? What the hell's wrong with you?," Andrea snapped.

Rick looked stunned in silence for a moment and she just blinked at him feeling the anger start to dissipate.

"Carl could be alive…," Rick said tentatively, like he was testing the words.

"Of course he could be," Andrea said, "besides, he's with Sophia, and Sophia's practically mini-Merle. I'm sure the two of them are just fine."

She was lying. She didn't really believe the kids were alive. She supposed they could be, but she hadn't seen anything to give her reason to think they were. She hoped though… she meant what she said about Sophia. The girl really was Merle if Merle was an almost thirteen year old girl in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. If the kids were alive, she was certain that it'd be because of Sophia. Merle had taught the girl well.

She wondered if Merle was alive. It hadn't looked good for him.

_Merle. Why do I care if that redneck coot is alive or not? I don't. I don't care. _Even as she thought the words, she knew she cared. She avoided Merle most of the time, but that was really just remnants of how it used to be.

Back at the quarry, before Rick had shown up, she'd spent a lot of time avoiding the Dixon tent. They were ornery and she'd pegged them as trouble from the start. Merle more than Daryl simply because Merle was the one who had a voice and a sharp tongue. Daryl had been quiet, hard to read, lurking and observing but never truly participating. But Merle always had something to say, especially when no one wanted to hear it. She knew the type. She'd dated plenty of that type when she was in college. And she'd dealt with a lot of that type when she did her internship with a criminal attorney. That was why she chose civil rights – to avoid the lowlifes and assholes she'd always managed to attract or attach herself to and instead fight for the underdog, the ones who deserved to be fought for.

The Merle she avoided now was different from the Merle she'd avoided then. She watched him sometimes with Sophia and she was impressed. She almost couldn't help but be. If she was honest with herself, she'd have to admit that she avoided Merle for an entirely different reason now.

She watched as Rick stood up with a sigh. She turned her lips up in a small smile and then glanced at Hershel. Their eyes met and the older man frowned.

"For Maggie?," Andrea said, as much a question as a matter-of-fact demand.

"For Maggie," Hershel said softly, and he too stood up alongside Rick.

Andrea smiled wider. They were going to figure this out. There had to be away to get out of here... Woodbury. The place gave her chills. They'd been taken to a small house that the men called the Black House, and they'd been locked inside. She was sure there was a guard outside, but if they could figure out a plan maybe they could surprise him or whomever came to the Black House next.

She got the impression that the Governor and his men were not used to being argued with or being fought back. She figured the element of surprise and a plan of attack might work simply because they wouldn't be expecting it. The Governor was expecting them to go along complacently, do what they were told, wait here, but that wasn't going to happen.

She wondered how long it would take before the others realized they weren't coming back, before they left the safety of the storage facility for the gun warehouse and realized something had happened. She pictured the scene when the others found Beth and Merle… Carl and Sophia… They would realize. Someone would figure it out, and someone would come. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Michonne and T-Dog would come for her, and she knew at least Maggie and Glenn would come for Hershel, and Lori – even pregnant – would never leave Rick behind. _They'll come… we just need to be ready, and we just need a plan. _


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N – Merle's POV… I missed writing him. I'm aiming to write more in the coming weeks. I want to finish up my AU fics (all of them at this point) and start on something more Season 3 based. But first things first… an update on Debts and Regrets. The goal is to update each of my fics at least once a week, so look for a new chapter soon. Hope you like! Thank you for all the reviews!**

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Chapter 24

Merle paused in the doorway of the room where Maggie sat at Beth's bedside. He stepped inside and cleared his throat awkwardly. Maggie glanced up at him; she was pale, drawn, her fingers stained pink from all the blood she'd tried to wash off over the past few days.

"How's she?," he said simply.

Maggie shrugged, turned the corner of her lips up in a good faith effort to be positive. "Holding on, I guess… the bleeding is finally under control, just need to avoid infection at this point."

Merle gave a short cursory nod before turning to leave. He paused in the doorway again to look back and said, "folks is havin' a meetin'… fixin' on our next move… thought ya might be in'erested."

She nodded but he left the room before there was a chance for her to say anything in response.

He was restless. He didn't like that it was taking so long for them to get their act together. For all they knew, Daryl and the others were long dead and they'd never find them. Merle understood what was taking so long. He understood the reasoning behind waiting a few days for his own wounds to heal and for Beth to die… or stabilize… whichever happened first. That had been a battle… the conversation about Beth; about what to do... he shook his head, not wanting to think on it.

So he understood the "why's" of it, but logistically, he just couldn't sit still any longer. It was time. Time to leave this place and get back the ones they'd lost. And he knew Sophia felt the same. She'd been hounding him all morning about this meeting.

As if on cue, Sophia turned the corner ahead of him and paused in the hallway, her arms crossed in front of her.

"I tol' ya to wait," Merle muttered crossly as he strode towards her.

"You said you were only going to be a few minutes… it's been longer than that," Sophia replied.

"Look-ie 'ere, 'Phia, I ain't gonn'" he started angrily before catching the look of worry on her face. He shut his mouth and stooped down so that they were eye to eye. She was getting taller, but she still looked like a little girl to him. He wondered if she'd always look like a little girl to him… his little girl, even though she wasn't really.

He sighed and opened one arm up so that she could step forward into his embrace.

"I need my mom to be okay, Merle," Sophia sniffed into his shoulder.

"She's gonn' be… Daryl's got 'er, ya know that," Merle said softly.

"And if Daryl's not okay?," Sophia questioned.

"Us Dixons are tougher 'an that, ya know better. Daryl and yer ma are fine. The 'thers too," Merle muttered. He felt the tension go out of her then, felt her shoulders drop slightly and he knew he could let go. He knew he'd said what she needed to hear. Before he could let go though, he heard her next words.

"I wish I were a Dixon," Sophia said softly, her words coming out in a rushed breath.

Merle pulled back to look at her and narrowed his eyes.

"Ain't ya 'lready a Dixon?," his voice was flippant as he said it, but Merle could feel his heart rattling in his chest.

Sophia bit her lip and looked at him hopefully, "am I?"

"Hell if ya ain't pract'ly my own flesh and blood, girl… yer as much a Dixon as ya wan' be."

They were interrupted then by a cough at the end of the hall. He glanced up over Sophia's shoulder to see Glenn standing there awkwardly.

"What?," Merle growled.

"I… uh… we're all waiting… I mean… everyone's in the kitchen," Glenn stammered.

Merle sucked the side of his mouth in and made a sound like he was sucking at his teeth. "A'right then…," he glanced back towards the room that he'd come from and then back at Glenn. Merle caught the anxiety on the younger man's face as he looked past Merle toward the only room that was alit at the moment.

"Is she…," Glenn started to say.

"Holdin' right," Merle said quickly, "for now… I told 'er bout the meetin'."

Their eyes met for a moment and Glenn nodded. "Maybe I should…"

"No," Merle interrupted, "she'll come if she wants, ya cain't push 'er."

Merle nodded at Sophia and stood up, heading past Glenn towards the kitchen with Sophia right behind. After a moment he heard Glenn shift uncomfortably and then turn to follow along.

It was odd how the small kitchen didn't feel crowded anymore with the absence of Rick, Hershel, Carol, Daryl, and Andrea. It was a tiny kitchen, clearly just a place for the storage facility's employees to use for a quick break, and not a place expected to be used often. It was in shambles currently. Without Carol here cooking and cleaning, Lori had fallen short on keeping things in order.

Merle, Sophia, and Glenn stepped inside the kitchen where Michonne, T-Dog, Lori, and Carl waited. Merle gave a nod to T-Dog who returned the gesture.

"Is Maggie…?," Lori started to say.

"I'm here," Maggie's voice came from the hallway. Merle hadn't even realized she'd been there as she stepped into the room.

Merle caught Maggie's eye as she moved forward and stopped to stand beside the table where the others were crowded. Glenn went to stand beside her, his hand briefly touching her arm before she shifted her body to move away from him, putting an obvious space between them.

The silence in the room was impregnable, almost an object that someone could have reached out and touched. Everyone seemed to be unsure of what to say. Merle glanced down at Sophia who was looking up at him expectantly.

"A'right," Merle started, commanding everyone's attention, "here's the plan…"

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**A/N – I know, I know… what a mean place to stop. :( Sorry! But if we didn't get to know Sophia and Merle's get-Carol-and-Daryl-together plan, then we don't get to know the save-the-others plan either. LOL. Use your imagination and watch and wait until next chapter (or the one after that, or the one after that… we're close though). **


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N – I'm trying for a slow build here… I'm hoping that comes across in this update. Thank you so much for your reviews to the last chapter! Hopefully you like this one as well. :)**

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Chapter 25

Sophia's hand trembled slightly as she reached for the door handle, betraying the fear she felt. She didn't want to be afraid though… she wanted to be strong. She needed to be able to handle this. It didn't matter that she'd been a kid when the world ended; what mattered now was this – being the fighter… the soldier… that she needed to be in order to help save the others.

"'Phia…," Merle said from beside her and she hesitated, her fingers pausing midair before she could open the door. She turned her head to look at him.

"Tell it to me again," she said, her voice low and quiet.

They'd taken a separate vehicle from the others. Carl had gone with Michonne and T-Dog. Glenn had gone alone, taking Daryl's bike. Maggie and Lori chose to stay behind with Beth.

It had been a battle to get Lori to agree for Carl and Sophia to go.

"_They're just kids!," Lori said angrily, wedging her body in Merle's way as he tried to leave the room, nose to nose with the larger man. Sophia reached for Merle's hand instinctually, knowing the connection would ground him, would calm him._

"_Yer son's more capable than you, hag," Merle snapped, taking a breath before he continued, motioning to Sophia with his stump as he spoke again, "and don't git me started on my girl 'ere…the kids come, end of discus'on." _

Lori had conceded, but not without a lot more snapping and name-calling on Merle's part. Since the others had been taken, it seemed to Sophia like everything was a battle. The worst was the one over Beth.

"_She's my sister," Maggie hissed, her eyes shining, her face determined. _

"_All the more reason to put her down before she turns…," Michonne said._

"_That's murder," Lori interrupted, leaving the wall where she'd been at Carl and Sophia's side to go stand next to Maggie. _

"_I'm just saying…," Michonne started, "that girl's gonna die, whether you want to believe it or not, it's gonna happen. Now ask yourself if you want her to become one of **them**… if you want her to become a threat to our safety. Because that's what she is. A time bomb, set to explode, and we don't have a clue when." _

_Maggie's jaw set rigid and her eyes flashed fiercely. If there was a time bomb here at the moment, in this room… it was Maggie from what Sophia could tell. _

_It was Glenn who broke the tension, moving forward to Maggie's side, his hand going to her shoulder and she turned her face to look at him. He put his other hand to her cheek, traced her jawline with his thumb, his eyes intent on hers, beseeching. _

"_Mags... you know it's the right thing to do. She's suffering, Beth is suffering, and there's nothing you can do," Glenn's voice was soft, pleading, and his words were the opposite of what Maggie had expected as the look on her face changed. _

_She hardened; Sophia had seen it… Maggie's face turned to stone, her eyes disbelieving as she stepped back from Glenn, horror written on her features. _

"_She's…my… sister. She's not a **dog**. I'm not putting her down. I'm going to save her. And if I don't, then I'll deal with that then. But she's alive right now, she's not a time bomb, she's not a walker, she's **Beth**," Maggie's tone was forceful, enraged, and insistent. _

_It was Merle who sighed then, pushing off the wall where he'd been leaning next to Sophia, taking it all in. _

"_We done 'ere?," he inquired, his tone light but shadowed as he stepped forward. His eyes flashed to Michonne, to Lori, to Glenn, and finally fell on Maggie. His next words were directed to her. "It's a non-issue to me… ya do wha' ya need to, ain't anyone else's call to make." _

_The nod Maggie gave was slight, hardly noticeable but Sophia saw it and she knew Merle did to. Maggie spun on her heel to move past Merle, to head out of the room. _

"_Maggie," Glenn said, his hand reaching for her arm, fingers grazing her bicep. _

_Maggie yanked her arm away from his grasp as the words came out, angry and cold, "don't you touch me… just leave me be."_

"A'right," Merle said softly in the silence of the vehicle; he sighed.

"Asia… err… Glenn… he's goin' first, headin' to the south wall, scopin' out. I gather yer ma and Daryl are together… cain't see Daryl lettin' it be any other way. The others… prob'ly as far from 'em as possible, holed up some other place. The east side maybe? They got a tower with guards to the south so that's gotta be some of 'em."

"And Michonne, T-Dog, and Carl?," Sophia said.

"Michonne's fixin' to scale the wall… says there's a weak spot, saw it a couple-a days ago, our last recon. Dog is goin' with Carl… scopin' out the two houses that got men on 'em… the east side."

"And us?," Sophia whispered.

Merle smirked, "we headin' straight in, knives out and guns ready… headin' straight for the big boss man."

He wouldn't let her go with anyone else but him. Sophia was glad. She felt safer with Merle than with anyone else there, and she needed to protect him just as much as he needed to protect her. They were going after the man in charge… the one who called himself the Governor of Woodbury.

She nodded.

"Ya ready?," Merle asked.

She shook her head, but her eyes betrayed her hesitation even if her face did not.

"S'right to be scared, ya know," he said quietly.

"Are you scared?," Sophia asked.

He paused before speaking, his eyes shifting away from her, looking out through the windshield and around at the woods surrounding them. "Only bout failin' ya," he finally said, his eyes still averted from hers as he spoke.

Sophia put her hand down lightly on the healed end of his stump. "That's not going to happen."

Merle glanced at her, wary, and then he smiled slightly, his lips curling upward on his weathered face.

"Let's go git yer ma," he muttered.

"And Daryl…," Sophia replied.

"And the Doc… and Blondie… and even Officer fuckin Friendly, eh?," Merle said, his smile widening but his eyes staying wary.

Sophia put her hand to the door handle and pulled it so that the door popped open quietly in the darkened and empty woods just outside the fenced-in border that surrounded Woodbury.

"Hey 'Phia," Merle said softly and she turned her head as she slid out of her seat, her feet hitting the hard-packed earth. "Ya kill anyone gits in yer way… a'right? No second thoughts."


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N – I had this scene in mind for awhile… I was waiting for it, biding my time. I actually had it written before the last two chapters were. I know I lost readers because of the Carol story in this one… the what did or didn't happen while Daryl was unconscious at Woodbury. In my stories, I've done a lot of near misses with Carol, and I wanted to write this one a little differently. I don't want to dwell on the what did or didn't… believe it or not I don't think it's central to this storyline. It's a passing event that changes her, not something to dwell on. What's important here is that she's Carol. She's stronger than she seems and harder than steel even when we think she's as delicate and soft as snow. **

**Thanks for the reviews everyone! In my long absence, I forgot how addicting the reviews are and how they inspire me. You're all wonderful and I'm so glad you're bearing with me here for this one! Daryl's POV is next. **

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Chapter 26

The showers at Woodbury, at least the ones she'd seen, were community showers. They resembled something like a high school locker room. Maybe it even was a high school locker room; she didn't know for sure.

Carol was the only one occupying this one at the moment. She stood, her hands braced flat against the wall, her head down, letting the water cascade hot, steamy, and full-blast down her back. Her shoulders shook as she cried, as she let her body do what it wanted, sob and wretch and grieve.

There was a guard somewhere at the door. She knew he could hear her, but she didn't care. Let them think she was broken. Let them think she was weak and pathetic and that they'd broken her. It was better if they thought that.

The truth was though… she was far from broken.

Daryl had wanted to talk. He'd wanted to know. He hadn't said as much, and he certainly hadn't asked outright, but it had been there in his eyes as he watched her warily, as he'd helped her to stand and checked out her various and plentiful contusions.

She didn't want to talk. She didn't need him to know. She knew. That was enough. She knew what had happened and she knew that it didn't matter. If she told him, if she confirmed every suspicion he might have, he would never realize that it didn't matter. And it truly didn't. Not to her.

Some people seemed to think that this so-called zombie apocalypse was hell… but Carol knew better. She'd been in hell for far longer than the dead had been walking the earth. If anything, the zombie apocalypse is what let her out of hell, what finally set her free. She'd been married to Ed for so long she couldn't remember a time before that, she couldn't remember a time before beatings… before abuse of all kinds was a daily part of her life.

Nothing the governor or his men could do to her hadn't been done before, and hadn't been done better… or rather, worse. Anything that happened to her while Daryl had been unconscious hadn't been unbearable. Unpleasant, uncalled for, even fucked up, but she was far from broken. If anything, she was fueled.

She wasn't going to talk. This wasn't the time for talking.

It wasn't the time for crying either, but she let her body do what it needed even when her mind was already past it. Even when her mind was ready to move on, ready to show them how broken _they_ could be, ready to stop being Carol the victim and start being Carol the victor.

So she cried, and she told herself this would be the last time she ever cried over the governor and his men, the last time she ever cried over Woodbury.

After her shower, she stood in front of the mirror, nude except for the pair of panties they'd left for her in a pile with her other clothes, staring into the face that was her own staring back at her. They'd been at Woodbury for four days… this was her first trip to the showers, and she wasn't sure if she'd get another one. She took in the sight of her face, both eyes finally able to open, although one still a little lilted compared to the other, the gash on the side of her face healing crudely but nonetheless healing. Her gaze followed the bruises on her neck, the darkened purple fading into a yellowish green. She met her own cool gaze again and narrowed her eyes.

The smash of shattering glass echoed in the empty room as the side of her fist slammed into the mirror. She didn't flinch at the pinch of shards pricking flesh, at the pain of her knuckles as they protested her action, as skin split open as blood swelled to the area. She didn't have long… the guard was at the door. She grabbed the largest piece she could find, gripping it tightly even as it cut into her palm, the glass jutting out of the side of her fist, sharp and jagged, one thread of blood finding its way down the splintered edge.

She spun as the door swung open as the guard burst inside, his face registering shock at seeing her standing there her chest bare and uncovered, the bruises and gashes stark against her pale skin. It was a moment's hesitation, a second's worth of shock that he recovered from quickly; but it was just long enough.

Carol's movement was fluid, graceful, as she advanced across the room, jamming the side of her fist and the shard of glass into the man's neck, feeling the shard slip easily into his flesh even as he reached for her, as he reacted, his fist slamming haphazardly into her stomach, an ineffectual blow. She brought her knee up into his crotch, felt the 'oof' and the breath as it left him, as he stooped and she backed up to let him fall, alive, but suffering as his neck wound continued to bleed.

Carol grabbed for the pile of clothes on the counter, letting the fallen mirror shards that had littered the clothes scatter to the ground as she gathered the bundle to her chest. She moved quickly to the door. It wouldn't be long, there would be others; she knew they'd know something was amiss in only a moment… it would only take a moment. She had to get to Daryl.

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**A/N – For anyone wondering, these events are taking place at about the same time that Merle and Sophia are having the conversation they had in the previous chapter… **


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N – Hi everyone! I've missed you all! And you can reserve your opinions on whether you missed me until after you read this chapter… ominous, much? **

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Chapter 27

Daryl moved along the wall beside the door, pacing, his gait stilted as he moved. He was a bundle of nervous energy, his hands clenching and unclenching, every muscle in his body on high alert. They'd taken Carol, pulled her right from his arms and taken her… somewhere. It hadn't been right from his arms technically; he'd put up a fight. His step on his right as he paced was noticeably slower than usual, noticeably cautious as he moved his right leg.

He'd been shot in the thigh. It struck him as odd that they hadn't just killed him. The man – Martinez, Daryl remembered – had deliberately aimed for Daryl's thigh, deliberately chosen not to kill him.

The pain didn't matter; he was too angry that they'd taken her somewhere and that he wasn't there to protect her.

In his frustration, he growled angrily and put his fist into the wall.

"Fuck!," he snapped, spinning away from the wall, ignoring the pain in his thigh, ignoring the ache in his knuckles. He stopped, put his hands to his face and rubbed up to his head and then down again. He sighed and bent forward, nausea suddenly ripping through his stomach. He put his hands on his knees and breathed, waited for the flashes of light in front of his eyes to dissipate. Waited to vomit, waited to pass out, waited to die… Lord, he was tired of waiting. And he sure as shit wasn't going to die from a fucking gunshot to the thigh.

He sure as shit wasn't going to die in this godforfucksaken place under the fucking thumb of some piece of shit with a god complex. The _governor_. Who the fuck was that guy kidding?

Carol. All that mattered was Carol. They'd hurt her… badly. She hadn't wanted to talk about it but he knew. It felt like it had been months since he'd kissed her in that freezer, when really it had been just days. He'd thought that moment would never come. He'd watched her for so long, circled around as she suffered over the loss – or the thought of the loss – of Sophia, he'd protected her as best he could, he'd gotten her off the farm when she'd almost been too weak to keep running, he'd watched her after Merle and Sophia had turned up, he'd loved her even when she hadn't known it. Did she even know it now? He'd said he'd been terrified of loving her… but he hadn't said he loved her… they weren't the same thing. Being afraid of something and actually doing it were miles apart from each other. But he did love her. Even through his fear of loving her, he loved her. He couldn't remember a time when he didn't, when he hadn't. He couldn't lose her before he'd even had her. He couldn't lose her before they'd even had their chance to have something worth losing.

He'd bungled so much up… all these weeks. He'd been so worried, so concentrated on Merle and whatever his agenda might be that he hadn't even considered that maybe there was no agenda. Maybe Merle was different… maybe it didn't even matter. Maybe all that time he should have been trying to find a way to tell Carol how much she meant to him. Merle would've done it; Merle would've made it happen.

_Merle's dead… don't matter what Merle woulda done._

He doesn't believe it though. Even as the words pop unbidden into his mind, he knows he doesn't believe it. There's no way Merle was dead. Daryl felt like he'd feel it in his bones if his brother was gone.

Merle would've made it happen… he frowned, straightened up and let his gaze fall on the door to the room again. The freezer… something nagged him about that… something just on the corner of his mind, some fact of that day that he couldn't quite place. Andrea running inside… hollering that they should hide… why hadn't she gone into the freezer too? Why just him and Carol…

The dull pop of gunshots just outside tore him away from his thoughts and suddenly Daryl was moving towards the door, his injured leg suddenly numb and useless as he half stepped and half dragged it.

The door busted open with a bang, slamming back against the wall as one of the governor's men was shoved inside, stumbled backwards and fell dead to the floor.

"Fuck baby bro… I been lookin' for ya," Merle's voice came from the doorway as Daryl looked up. Merle smirked; his stump resting on the door frame and his hand gripping an automatic weapon. Daryl recognized the gun as being the same one the governor's men used.

"Where's my mom?"

Daryl blinked, surprised, stunned, and saw Sophia slide in between Merle and the door, her eyes wide and worried.

"Think we's surprised 'im, 'Phia," Merle said with almost a laugh, stepping forward into the room and moving towards Daryl. "Ya a'right? Where's blue eyes?"

Daryl snorted unconsciously, suddenly jarred back into the moment. "Blue eyes?," he said, "she know ya call 'er that?"

Merle's smirk widened. "Better than bitch or sugar tits, ain't it?"

"Merle!," Sophia chastised. Daryl watched as Merle ducked his head with a sheepish look and held up his stump in a movement of surrender.

Daryl nodded to Merle's gun, "ya got one for me?"

Merle grinned then, "git yer own, baby brother, this 'ere's a buffet so I ain't gonna serve ya."

Daryl shook his head and moved towards the fallen man on the floor. He was crouched there searching the man for a weapon when five of the governor's men reached the door.

"Put your guns down!," one of the men shouted, aiming his gun at Merle.

"Fuckin' make me," Merle countered confidently, pushing Sophia behind him.

Daryl's hand hit on something hard by the dead man's ankle and he locked his fingers around the handle, one finger sliding onto the trigger. With a fluid motion, Daryl stood and raised the gun at the same time, firing one shot straight into the head of the man who'd shouted. Merle fired at the same time, moving forward and hitting two of the men as Daryl hit his second.

Daryl's gun jammed as he swung around to the fifth man who'd been moving the whole time towards him. He was face to face with the man's gun when another gunshot popped from a few feet away and the man's face imploded. Daryl was breathing hard when he turned his head to see Sophia lowering her gun. He nodded his thanks and she smiled thinly.

"Wait!," he called out grabbing Merle's attention before Merle put a bullet into the head of one of the men to finish him. "Carol… where'd they take her?," Daryl said moving forward.

The man on the ground was injured, dying. He shook his head, opened his mouth to speak.

"Here… I'm here, Daryl, I'm here."

Daryl glanced up in shock to see Carol coming up the stairs outside, her clothes disheveled, her face splattered with blood.

"Mom!," Sophia called out and ran to her mother who dropped to her knees and pulled her into a hug.

POP POP POP… Daryl spun toward Merle and watched his brother's body jerk back wildly as his body was riddled with gunshots.

"Merle!," Sophia screamed and Carol dragged her daughter to the ground, throwing her body on top of Sophia's.

"No!," Daryl screamed and turned to see the governor moving up the stairs towards them, gun drawn, blasting away. Daryl grabbed for Merle's gun as Merle fell backwards to the ground, summoned all of his strength and ignoring the searing pain in his leg rushed toward the governor with his gun raised and put four bullets into the man.


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N - ... radio silence ...**

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Chapter 28

Andrea frowned, letting the wind ruffle her hair as she stood in the open field beside the others. She opened her eyes with a low and long breath and stared down at the soft, just placed dirt at her feet. Another funeral, another fallen family member. They weren't just a group anymore; they were a family. And when one member bled, they all bled. When one member suffered, they all suffered.

Rick cleared his throat and she looked up at him. She moved her eyes to shift from each face in the group, all of them pained, all of them solemn.

She knew Daryl stood to her side but she didn't look to him. Instead, her eyes met Carol's standing across the gravesite from her and Carol nodded slightly.

"Merle Dixon was a decent man…," Andrea started to say.

"He was cranky as fuck," Glenn interrupted.

"And as bigoted as they come," T-Dog muttered under his breath.

"But underneath all that…," Carol said softly.

"He was my hero," Sophia whispered, squeezing her eyes shut and Andrea watched a tear roll down the girl's cheek.

* * *

A gunshot woke Andrea up from where she lay on the floor. It had to still be daytime but it was hard to tell locked in a room with no windows. She'd been dreaming but she couldn't remember the dream. She blinked the sleep from her eyes and looked up at Rick standing at the wall.

"Did anyone come?," she asked.

Rick shook his head with a frown.

She sighed and pulled herself up from the hard floor. "They haven't fed us since the first day…," she said softly, "they have to bring us something soon."

"And then what?," Hershel said from the corner. "Are we just going to attack them?"

Rick gave Andrea a pointed look as he said, "I don't see how that can work."

"I don't see how it can't," came a voice as the door swung open and they all whirled to see Michonne standing there, a smile on her face.

"Michonne!," Andrea whooped and ran to her friend to envelope her into a hug. "I can't tell you how good it is to see you!"

Andrea stepped back and then to the side as Michonne slid through the cracked doorway into the room and then shut the door behind her. Michonne nodded to Rick and Hershel. They all spoke at once.

"I knew you'd come," Andrea exclaimed.

"Where's the guard?," Rick said.

"How did you get here?," Hershel said.

"Of course I'd come," Michonne addressed Andrea first. "The guard is taking a little nap… we probably have about 10 minutes before anyone notices but I wanted to give you the lay of the land. T-Dog, Carl, and Glenn are dispatching all the men at the gate.

"Carl?," Rick exclaimed, "he's alive?"

Michonne smiled. "And as much a pain in the ass as ever. Talked my ear off the whole way here."

"I told you," Andrea said triumphantly glancing at Rick with a smug look.

"Merle and Sophia went looking for the governor and their loved ones. We need to meet them by the south gate," Michonne continued. The sound of gunshots outside got their attention and Michonne rolled her eyes. "Hell, we got company, let's just do this."

Andrea waved Hershel ahead of her and followed him and Michonne out of the room with Rick at her back. They hurried past the downed guard and across the yard. As they came to some of the governor's men lying unconscious or dead on the ground, Michonne stooped down and grabbed what guns she could see. She threw one to Andrea, and then two more to Rick and Hershel. They paused at the side of a building and Michonne peered around the corner. She glanced back and met Andrea's eye with a nod.

As Andrea stepped sidelong to her friend, she whispered, "thank you, Michonne… for this. For coming for us."

Michonne smiled, "no worries, babe. No way was I leaving you to the wolves."

A flurry of gunshots and the sound of T-Dog shouting made them go running around the building and toward the sound. They saw T-Dog and Glenn running towards a small building, Carl trailing just behind, their attention on something else. As Rick called out for Carl, Andrea turned her head to see what had the others' attention just in time to see Daryl screaming, running headlong towards the governor, gun going off as he went. The governor's body jerked back with the force of the bullets and Andrea watched as the man went down.

Daryl reached the fallen governor and fell to his knees, his face contorted with rage and pain. Daryl smashed his fists into the governor again and again as Andrea and the others reached him.

"Daryl…," Andrea said softly, crouching down beside him as his fist pummeled into the dead smashed up face of the governor again and again. He was a wild animal, completely oblivious to the fact that the governor was already done for, completely oblivious to the fact that anyone was even there. She put a hand to his shoulder and he made a guttural cry of anger, jerking himself away and spinning to face her.

"It's alright, it's alright, it's me! It's us," Andrea said falling back into the dirt, surprised at his response.

Carol was there then, suddenly at Andrea's side. Carol's hands reached forward to grasp Daryl's, her face bruised and split open jaggedly in places, stained with dried specks of blood. Andrea looked in horror at her and glanced up to see Carl hugging a weeping Sophia.

"It's okay, Daryl, it's okay," Carol murmured one of her hands gripping his, the other hand held out, reaching, tentatively tracing his jawbone. Daryl blinked as the fogginess cleared and then he reached for Carol too, and their lips mashed together with need and desire as Andrea watched.

"Where's...," Andrea started to say, rising up to her feet.

"Fuck this shit hurts… they don' tell ya that on the fuckin pack'ging…"

Andrea raised her head to see Merle standing slumped in the doorway, coughing up blood, his hand pulling at his shirt to reveal something black beneath it. A Kevlar vest.


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N - Hi all! Thank you for the wonderful reviews for the last two chapters! It was so great to post them and get to hear from you all again! I've missed you! Hopefully I can be a bit more resolved in my writing this year and start posting more (or at least regularly). Here's the next chapter - Merle's perspective. Also, for those of you wondering about Martinez, don't worry, I plan to address him again soon...**

**Hope you like! Please read and review!**

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Chapter 29

It was Sophia's idea - the bulletproof vest. They'd stopped on their way to load up on guns and it'd been Sophia who'd paused at the cabinet filled with vests and suggested they'd be cool to wear. Merle shook his head and laughed inwardly at the thought. "Cool," she'd said, like it was a fashion choice. He smiled and cast a glance over at where Sophia was curled up beside him, her head nestled in Carol's lap. It was dark and they were headed home... or at least back to the storage facility which was as much their home at this point as any.

They were safe. Getting out of Woodbury hadn't been as bad as Merle had thought it'd be. Once the governor was dead, most of his men hid their heads in the sand and no one really interfered with the group's exit. They'd killed about a dozen of them and the others just hid or ran or kept out of the way. The only one that Daryl had wanted to look for was a man named Martinez… hadn't found him though and eventually Merle convinced Daryl they had to go with or without finding the man.

He shifted in his seat and winced as a pain shot through his side. His whole chest and stomach ached but still it could have been worse. _Coul' be dead._ The vest had taken a beating but had kept all but one bullet from touching him. The one bullet was high and made a clean pass through his collarbone. "Nothin I can't 'andle", he'd told Hershel gruffly back at Woodbury_. _He grunted involuntarily then as he turned the wheel, his shoulder protesting the movement. _Fuckin' Daryl-ina's ridin' my bike wit' a bullet in 'is leg… least I can do is fuckin' drive with one._

"Are you all right? Do you want me to drive?," Carol asked concernedly, her fingers languidly stroking Sophia's hair.

His response came out more of a grunt then a word. "Nah. Ain't gonn' have baby bro thinkin' I'm some kinda pussy."

Carol smiled, chuckled lightly under her breath. "Come on Merle; he's at the lead, doesn't even need to know." She strained her neck slightly to see past the car in front of them and he knew she could see Daryl on the bike leading the way back.

Merle shook his head dismissively. "Ya don't know yer man if ya think that... he always knows when it concerns ya."

Carol 's smile widened and he glanced her way, took in her bruised and battered face.

"Ya a'right?", he asked quietly, his tone serious.

"If I wasn't, I am now," she responded lightly, dismissively.

"If ya need to talk... erm... well, I jus' mean... I'm 'ere... if ya wanna talk bout it. I know I ain't… well ya know, Daryl's prob'ly better for shit like this but, I'm 'ere if ya need to." He felt her stiffen in the seat, her head turning to look out the window.

"I can't talk to Daryl about it…," she said softly. "He'll blame himself, and there's nothing he could have done… they'd have killed him, but he'll never realize that. He'll just blame himself and he'll think I blame him." She swallowed thickly and Merle kept his eyes trained on the road ahead of him, knowing that if he broke the silence, if he shattered the moment, she'd shut down.

Carol cleared her throat and sighed softly; her face still turned to the window, closed her eyes and felt the setting sun on her face. "I'm alive. That's all that matters to me. I'm alive and Daryl's alive, the others are alive... And everything that happened, only happened so that we could get out of there alive."

She leaned slightly, rested her forehead against the cool glass window, let her hands settle restlessly in her lap, forearms draped over her still sleeping daughter.

Merle frowned, suddenly uncomfortable and unaware of what he should do. And then he moved his arm to reach over Sophia, put his stump down gently on top of where Carol's hands sat. Carol stilled, but didn't flinch, and after a moment she turned her wrists and took his healed stump in her hands.

"Our ma… she was raped," Merle muttered under his breath, the words unbidden and thick in his throat, "well, if ya call it rape when its yer husb'nd."

Carol sat up straight again, her back against the seat. Her eyes were straight ahead; searching for Daryl, he supposed. "I didn't know," she breathed out.

"Not sure Daryl even does," Merle said, "he was only 3 or 4 when she died… cain't know wha' a kid 'members but I sure hope he don't 'member that." He paused. "Yer husband… er… when ya was married…," he trailed off unable to finish the thought.

Carol made a sound something like a low snort. "No. Never… he stopped wanting me not long after Sophia was born… he went elsewhere for that stuff – had some regulars he knew at a dive in town – I was perfectly fine with that."

"He beat ya though...," Merle asked, his tone more a statement than a question.

Carol gave him a sidelong look and Merle felt her gaze hot on the side of his face. "I survived," she hesitated then continued, "what happened to your mother… you know that wasn't your fault?"

"Fuck," Merle snapped then, whipping his head around to meet her gaze with a glare and retracting his stump back to his side angrily, "nosy bitch, tha' ain't none-ya bus'ness, is it?" He turned his head back to the road with a growl.

_Shit. Fucked tha' up, didn't I? Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck. Stupid broads, always turnin' shit 'round on ya when all yer tryna do is 'elp. All yer tryna do is listen._

Carol was quiet and he glanced back to see her still watching him.

"Wha'?," he sneered.

Carol smiled thinly. "It wasn't your fault, Merle. Everything your father did… that's on him."

Merle turned his attention back to the road and he felt the movement of her shifting in the seat as she turned her attention to the road as well.

"Sorry," he said softly then refusing to look at her, feeling the rage in his head snap free of its sticking place. He swallowed it down letting it settle in the pit of his stomach, a knot he'd never release.

He thought about saying the words then… _Ma was gonn' leave… she had a plan and all for it – me, Daryl and 'er. He killed 'er the night 'fore we was s'posed to leave. All cause he 'eard me tell the neighbor girl I wasn't gonn' see 'er no more. Wasn't gonn' play wit' 'er no more cause I was leavin'. I didn't wanna jus' up and go cause I liked 'er… she was pretty and I liked 'er. All cause I couldn'ta jus' kept my mouth shut. Ma died cause-a me… pa mighta done it someday, but it was me who made it 'appen when it did. _

"It wasn't you, Merle," Carol breathed out so low that Merle almost thought he imagined it, almost thought he'd said the words aloud.


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N – I think I have the best readers in the world because you're all so patient with me. I am truly blessed to have all of you reading this story and I can't wait to hear what you have to say about this latest chapter. I wrapped up one of my three WIPs last night, so I should have more time to work on this one and bring it to its resolution. So hopefully my updates will be far less few and between. Also, for anyone waiting patiently for updates on Breaking Apart, I plan to work on that one as well as soon as I can. Hope you like this chapter! Please read and review! **

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Chapter 30

Sophia stepped back quietly when Merle turned around, concealing herself behind the wall. She waited, counted the beats in her head, knowing he was scanning the hall and that in a moment he'd turn and continue on his way. If he knew she was there, he'd send her off someplace else.

"Go find yer ma…," he'd say.

And frankly, she was far too interested in where Merle was going than in helping to make supper.

They'd arrived back at the storage facility to find Maggie and Lori waiting impatiently. Beth was still holding on and there'd been a big father-daughter reunion once Hershel found out she was alive. A bit of a one-sided reunion since Beth had been unconscious for it, but still.

Sophia had gone with her mother to get cleaned up. She'd paused on her way leaving the bathroom – the door cracked just a hair – when she heard Daryl and her mother's voices.

"_I'm fine," Daryl muttered, his voice low as Carol fussed over his leg. _

"_Like hell," Carol said. "You need to go see Hershel about this. For God's sakes you were shot. Stop being such a man." _

_Daryl smirked and gave her a mischievous look. _

_Through the crack in the door, Sophia saw her mother's face flush. Finally, her mother smiled widely and shook her head. _

"_Just go get checked out, you," Carol motioned to the door emphatically as she spoke and Daryl just smirked with amusement in response and gave a nod as he headed out of the room. _

"_Long as yer gettin' checked out after," Daryl called back as he left. _

After that Sophia and her mother went to their room and found Merle waiting there.

"_I'll meet you in the kitchen, okay, Sophia?," Carol said softly, giving Sophia a look that clearly said she needed to make herself scarce so the grown-ups could talk. _

_Sophia had grumbled, but she'd gone anyway… not far though, and certainly not to the kitchen. _

"_Are you going to talk to him?," Carol asked. _

_Merle grunted in response, clearly trying to ignore having to deal with what Carol wanted to deal with. He was busying himself by digging through his bag of stuff._

_Carol reached out and placed her hand on Merle's arm. His erratic search through the bag stopped and his whole body stilled as Sophia watched quietly from outside. Merle turned his head to meet Carol's gaze. _

"_Go," her mother said, "this is long past due… and you know it. Go figure it out. Now." _

"_Don't even know where 'e is," Merle muttered. _

"_He went to see Hershel. So I assume you can find him in the room where Beth is." Sophia smiled at her mother's no-nonsense tone. _

When she was sure that Merle had disappeared around the next corner, she hurried down the hall after him.

"Whaddya want Merle?," she heard Daryl mutter angrily and she paused, inched her way over to the door frame silently, balancing on her toes. It wasn't the room that Beth was in, but one room over.

Merle sighed and ran his hand over his face and across his head. He stopped, the palm of his hand covering his mouth.

"Carol said I should talk to ya," Merle said, letting his hand fall from his face to his side.

Daryl was sitting at the table in the room, his pant leg split open and his wound dressed and wrapped. He pushed himself up off the seat with some effort and went to move past Merle as he spoke. "Then tell 'er we talked." As he passed by Merle, and as Sophia thought about pulling back from where she perched in the hallway hidden from sight, Merle held up his arm in front of Daryl, blocking his path. Daryl stepped back, gave Merle a glowering look.

"I… er… I think we should talk," Merle said, the words cautious as he said them.

Daryl shook his head slowly, his eyes coming to rest on Merle's. "Ya ain't the Merle I know. This…," he waved his hand emphatically up and down to indicate Merle, "this ain't the Merle I know." He sighed then, turning his head away from Merle and screwing his face up in a look of discontent. "We're kin, Merle. I ain't gotta like ya. I'm yer brother and I get ya wanna make amends… but damn, Merle, we talkin' thirty some-odd years of crap-filled hell… crap-filled hell that ya 'ad a hand in. There ain't no 'pologies gonn' make that right."

It was more words than Sophia had ever heard Daryl Dixon say and she frowned. Merle was trying… why couldn't Daryl try too? Every fiber of her body wanted her to march in there and defend Merle, but she hesitated, watching Merle's shoulders as he stood there, his back to the door. Then Merle tilted his head slightly to watch Daryl's profile.

"I ain't gonn' a-pologize," he began, "we Dixons know a 'pology ain't mean nothin'." His voice was soft; he paused, then he cleared his throat and spoke again. "I'm tryin' 'ere, brother. I cain't make it right, the past… well fuck, it's the past ain't it? There's a reason we cain't go back there. I wanna fix now though... today, 'ere, if that's even possible, and if it ain't, I wanna know I tried."

Sophia studied Daryl's face as he processed his brother's words, his eyes downcast, his mouth pressed in a thin line.

"Sophia," Daryl said and Sophia startled, nearly unbalanced herself from where she stood on tiptoe by the door, "yer great with 'er." Daryl turned his head to meet Merle's gaze again. "Ya ain't the Merle I knew… I said tha', ya 'eard it. I need time, Merle, time to know the Merle that ya are now… this Merle. I ain't ever gonn' forget what was, and I get that yer diff'rent now. Trust me, I see that. Ya gotta give me time to figure this out, ya gotta give me time to get to know ya 'gain Merle. I'm jus' askin' for time."

Merle nodded. "I can do tha'," he said, "I can give ya time." Merle turned then, his body moving away from Daryl and coming to face the door again. Sophia stepped back as Merle moved forward.

"Hey…," Daryl started and Merle hesitated mid-step, "I didn't… er… I… thank ya, for comin' for us… ya don't know what tha' means to me."

Merle gave a glance back at Daryl then, a sudden satisfied smirk on his face, "yer glad I ain't dead, ain't ya, brother?"

Daryl chewed his lower lip and eyed Merle through narrow slits, the corner of one side of his mouth moving up in a slight smile. He didn't respond, but somehow Sophia knew just as much as Merle did that everything was going to be all right.

Sophia smiled and stepped back silently from where she was standing. She was loath to get caught and didn't want to wait for Merle to leave the room before she made haste out of the hallway. She turned and hurried in the direction of the kitchen. She was just turning the corner when a door to the outside – previously locked and chained – opened in front of her and a man clothed entirely in black stepped inside sneakily. He turned his head and glimpsed her at the same moment that she did him.

"Hey there, little girl," he said with a sneer, pointing his gun at her before she could move and in the back of her mind she recognized the voice. His face and his name eluded her but the voice was familiar. She recognized him as one of the Governor's men, one of the men who'd tried to kill her and Carl back at the gun store, the man who had told the Governor and the others that the kids – her and Carl – were dead.

_Martinez. _


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N - Hello all! I've missed you! I'm not entirely sure I'm 100% back yet, but I haven't forgotten any of my fanfiction friends or my Caryl WIPs. I'm going to try to be more diligent in posting something in each of my current WIPs (Debts & Regrets, Breaking Apart, and my new spin-off one about Carol/Daryl's daughter from Faith Hope and Love). It might take some time, but I promise I won't just abandon them. Anyway - hope you enjoy this chapter! I feel like it took me forever to write it. Please read and review!**

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Chapter 31

Carol was stirring peas in a pot over the gas stove, wondering how she could possibly make a supper of peas more interesting. It was all they had. Four cans of peas… and not a pot to piss in. She laughed at the joke inwardly. But in all seriousness, she knew any rest Daryl had earned would need to be short-lived. He'd have to go hunting tonight if anyone expected breakfast tomorrow.

She was lost in thought… thinking about the conversation she'd had with Merle on the way back from Woodbury. What must it be like to be so consumed in guilt and regret? It was a wonder that Merle – and Daryl too, for that matter – were able to function at all. She was all too familiar with the feelings herself, all too familiar with the mess she had made of her life before the world went to hell in a handbasket. She shook her head at herself. Ed. She should have left him years before any of this had happened. Should have, would have, could have.

A throat cleared behind her and she resisted the urge to jump, stilling herself instead. The old Carol might have jumped. She felt his presence then and was almost surprised that she hadn't felt him come in to the kitchen when he had, that she'd even needed a signal to tell her that he was there. He was stealthy, always had been, always would be, but she was well-versed in keeping an eye on him, in knowing where he was at all times, knowing because she cared, because she always needed to know.

"Did you talk?," she said softly, not looking back at Daryl.

"Said I would, didn't I?," he muttered gruffly, and then his arms were there, tentatively encircling her waist, as if he wasn't sure if he should, as if the contact itself was foreign to him. Which, she supposed, it probably was. Aside from the few times they'd really and truly touched, they weren't yet in the habit of touching, and certainly not in the familial way that his arms tried to hold her now. Their previous touching – in the kitchen when she'd swiped her thumb across his cheek, grazing his lip, to wipe away a spot of chocolate; in the freezer when she'd touched him and when they'd kissed for the first time; in the car on the way to Woodbury when he'd tried to rouse her; when he'd gripped her tightly around the waist pulling her up and out from the car when they'd arrived at the gates of Woodbury; when he'd kissed her for the second time in Woodbury, establishing the connection that dragged her back from despair; and then after… after the Governor's men, when Daryl had woken and she'd helped release him from his ropes, his thumb tracing her jaw in an effort to soothe the hurt she'd tried desperately not to show; when her hands had gripped his after he'd pummeled the Governor, wrecked over the thought that Merle was shot dead, and their third kiss moments after, sealing the desire and need she had for him, far outweighing any trauma she'd endured at the hands of the Governor and his men – all of those times had been borne from an overwhelming need to touch, driven by an urge, a desire, and most of them had been fleeting as it were.

This was different. His tentative arms, strong but hesitant, familiar but strange. It was a new feeling. It was the feeling of beginning. The feeling of moving forward, the feeling of moving on towards something new. And that's what they were, she realized. Something new. This… relationship? Was it a relationship? Yes, she internalized, it certainly was. A relationship perhaps not initiated in the best of circumstances, and certainly fraught with more peril than any relationship should have been, but a relationship nonetheless.

She leaned back into him, pressing herself against him, his body fitting comfortably against hers, his arms getting tighter, realizing that he could in fact grip her tighter.

She closed her eyes without realizing that she had, her hand still gripping the spoon as she stirred the warming peas. She felt him settle his face at the crook of her neck, the gruffness of his slightly overgrown facial hair tickling at her skin.

"I'm s'rry," he muttered into her neck, his voice low, almost afraid. She didn't have to ask. She knew. She understood. She needed to absolve him of this even though there was no need for him to ever be sorry.

"You couldn't have done anything, Daryl," she murmured, her eyes still closed, letting herself lean into him even further, letting herself seek comfort in the embrace. "Being here," she breathed, "you just being here right now is enough."

She knew in her heart that they'd probably never discuss it again – they'd probably never break words about what had happened at Woodbury, at the violation of it. But she knew at the same time that it wouldn't taint her… it had happened, but it didn't own her. It didn't make her less of who she was, and she knew Daryl would never look differently at her because of it. The feeling of love for this man swelled inside of her, swelled up almost to the point of bursting out. She opened her mouth to speak, suddenly unsure of what would come blurting out.

"Have you seen Sophia?," Carl interrupted from the doorway, startling Daryl and Carol both as Daryl jumped back, Carol's eyes opening as Daryl's arms released her. They both looked at the younger boy, his expression earnest.

"No, I thought she was with you," Carol said, her brow furrowing. She hadn't been worried when Sophia didn't meet her in the kitchen like she was supposed to after sending the girl away so she could talk to Merle privately about discussing things with his brother. Since Merle had come into their life, Sophia was more and more stubborn than Carol was used to – although strangely she didn't view it as a bad thing. She'd assumed Sophia had gone off instead to see Carl. Anyone could see her daughter and the boy were getting closer; their friendship may even blossom into something more someday. The thought gave Carol a bit of anxiety, but also a bit of hope – the idea that her daughter may actually grow up, even in this world, may actually even find love beyond her family's.

The sound of hurried footsteps in the hallway – more than hurried… internally she registered it as a dead run but he appeared in the doorway behind Carl before she could give it voice. By the sudden stillness of Daryl beside her, she knew he was thinking the same.

Merle pushed Carl to the side as his larger frame filled the door. His eyes scanned the kitchen rapidly and Carol could see the panic on his face. Their eyes met and somehow she knew without him saying.

"Sophia's missing." Their words were in unison, one thought spoken from both their mouths at the same time.


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N – I'm sorry… **

* * *

Chapter 32

"Where the fuck is she then, _Rick_?," Merle snarled, and Daryl held his arm up in front of his brother's chest instinctually between Merle and Rick to keep his brother from jumping on the other man.

Rick had his hands up in front of him in a signal of surrender, and was saying, "I just mean she's got to be here somewhere… we haven't looked everywhere yet…" He was stammering, trying to calm the storm that was building within Merle. Daryl could feel the tenseness of his brother's stance, the tightness of the way he puffed his chest out, the anger swirling in his eyes.

Carol was suddenly on the other side of Merle, laying her hand calmly on his arm, and if it was possible Merle stiffened even further and glanced at her, his eyes no longer visible to Daryl, but clearly reflected in Carol's own. Something in her gaze softened Merle, and Daryl heard the air rush out of Merle as he exhaled, he saw the slight loosening of the man's shoulders, felt the tension in the air surrounding them dissipate. Not disappear entirely, but suddenly it wasn't as thick as it had been moments before.

As manic and panicked as Merle was, Carol was equally as calm and collected about the matter of Sophia suddenly being nowhere within the grounds of the storage facility. Daryl wasn't concerned by Merle's reaction, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't worried by Carol's. They were gathered in the main building, figuring out where to search next and who would go where.

He grabbed her gently by the wrist as she moved past him towards the hallway.

"Ya a'right?," his voice was soft, his eyes concerned on hers. Carol turned the corners of her mouth up just slightly, not a smile, but he imagined just something to soothe the worry from his creased brow. She averted her eyes as she spoke.

"It's just… we've been through so much, you know? To have her missing now… it can't be real. We'll find her. We have to." Her words were breathy, the waver in her voice betrayed the confidence she was trying to portray, but he didn't press her. He let her pull her wrist from his grasp and watched her hurry out of the room and away to search further in the main building.

"We'll find her," he echoed after she'd turned the corner, the words under his breath and meant only for him.

"Fuck yea, we will," Merle muttered from beside him and Daryl startled slightly before straightening his shoulders and looking at his brother. "I'm-a check the yard…," Merle huffed, taking a step away from Daryl towards the exit before calling back over his shoulder, "ya comin'?" Daryl followed, feeling vaguely off-kilter and like something wasn't right. But then again, Sophia was missing… so what wasn't right at this point?

The yard was frustratingly empty as they searched the perimeter within the fence. Rick, Lori, T-Dog, and Carl were concentrating on the storage units themselves. Glenn, Maggie, Andrea, and Michonne left the fenced in area to search the woods beyond. Daryl wanted to go with them but he hesitated, he needed to be here for Carol; he didn't want to stray too far. He didn't miss the glance shared between Merle and Andrea and he wondered if perhaps there was something going on there. He didn't ask. It wasn't his style.

Daryl had meant what he said to his brother, he'd meant it when he'd said he knew Merle was different now, that he wasn't the same man he once was. Hell, even Daryl wasn't the same man he once was. Daryl meant it when he'd told Merle he just needed time. He didn't want to hate his brother anymore. Daryl was trying not to hate Merle, trying to see him for who he was now and not who he was then. He had every intention to keep trying. He wanted their relationship to repair, at least as much as it could. But he didn't think they'd ever be at a place where he'd ask about whatever the hell it was between Merle and Andrea, whatever it was between them simmering just below the surface.

There was a loud sound suddenly from behind him, and the ground shook as someone screamed and the sound of wood cracking and breaking split the air. Daryl spun, his eyes scanning the storage facility, and he watched helplessly as the main building – the building where they ate their meals, and held their meetings, the building where Carol had disappeared into in search of Sophia – collapsed upon itself, flames licking up the walls as they crumbled, sparking the air as smoke billowed above the wreckage.

_I didn't even smell it… didn't even see it comin'._

"Beth!," Maggie screamed, rounding the bend back into the yard, rushing full blast towards the collapsed and burning building. In seconds the flames were consuming everything, and Merle grabbed Maggie because he was closest – Glenn calling after her as he sprinted into the yard – Daryl watching as Merle pulled her into his chest as she dragged him down in her hellbent suicidal need to get to her sister. "Daddy!," Maggie wailed, "Beth!"

"Hush now, hush now," Daryl heard Merle mutter, his voice pained, and Maggie broke, sobbing uncontrollably as she screamed their names, Glenn falling to her knees at her side and pulling her into his arms as Merle released her. And Daryl stood there dumbfounded, watching the flames roar and crackle, watching the building shudder one last time into a pile of indiscernible rubble. The closest storage unit was warping from the flames, metal bending in on itself as the fire continued to rage.

The whole event had taken moments… everything moving around Daryl as his world upended on itself and spun viciously into something completely unrecognizable. He hardly registered the others as they all gathered around him – T-Dog, Rick, Lori, and Carl coming to stand beside them from where they'd been searching; Andrea and Michonne standing on the other side of the fence, Andrea's hands interlaced with the fence as tears streamed down her cheeks. And Merle… standing up beside him, his hand resting gently, almost imperceptibly on Daryl's shoulder.

Beth… Hershel… Carol. They'd all been in that building. They were all…

An ear-piercing scream from the side of the woods bordering the storage units and they all turned, Daryl turning first to see Sophia running, her legs moving too fast for her body as she stumbled along the fence, her hands bound behind her back, her blonde hair whipping around her face, and he barely registered the single word she hollered repetitively at them.

"Martinez! Martinez! Martinez!"

It was surreal, the world spinning and changing, never to be the same, all around Daryl. The crackle of the smoldering flames. The smoking, fiery rubble that had once been part of their home. Maggie's heart-wrenching cries. Sophia running, screaming. The gunshot that followed, and Sophia dropping to the ground, and Merle's hand vanishing from Daryl's shoulder as he moved to leap – to clear, awkwardly – the fence, as Daryl followed, and Andrea on his heels, running headlong towards where Sophia lay, hardly cognizant that they were running towards the hidden gunman, that Martinez had to be watching, had to be waiting.

* * *

**A/N – Soooooo… yea. I'm zipping my mouth shut. **hides under a rock****


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N – I'm not as sorry, but I'm still pretty sorry. You'll see… **

* * *

Chapter 33

The truck rattled noisily over a series of potholes in the road and Andrea was jerked awake by it, gasping as she woke. She felt him graze her arm with the side his stump and she forced her breathing back to a controlled level. She looked down to see Sophia still sleeping between them, her head on Andrea's lap. Merle had returned his handless arm back to his side, his one good hand gripping the steering wheel as he guided them forward in the night. A soft sigh escaped Andrea's lips as she gazed out into the darkness, a night so dark it was just barely lit by the headlights of the truck.

"That's how she was when we came back from Woodbury," Merle muttered, "e'cept, tha' was wit' 'er ma." He swallowed audibly before saying softly, "Tha' was wit' Carol."

Andrea glanced at him and then down at Sophia.

"_Sophia!," Daryl's voice sprang from him hoarsely, the first word he'd spoken in the minutes during and after the building collapsed. Andrea was at his heels as they reached Sophia lying still and silent on the ground, face down, her hair strewn about. _

_Merle was one step ahead of them, crouching beside the girl as they got there, his expression pained as he whispered hesitantly, "'Phia…" _

"I'm sorry, Merle," Andrea said quietly, keeping her voice low so as not to wake Sophia.

"For wha'," Merle muttered under his breath, his tone angry, "she's fi-ine." He motioned a bit erratically with his stump.

"No, Merle, not for Sophia… I'm sorry for Carol… and for Daryl."

A grunt was his only response. Andrea let the palm of her hand rest gently on Sophia's head, stroking down the girl's gnarled and slightly matted hair.

_Sophia coughed once… twice… as they rolled her over onto her back. She hadn't been hit by the bullet. She'd stumbled in her haste to get away, in her rush to reach them safely, to warn them about Martinez, tripping over her untied shoelaces, already off balance with her hands tied behind her back, and she'd taken a hard fall knocking the wind full out of her. _

_Merle slid his arms underneath the girl, pulling her into his chest and standing with her, cradling her there like he might never let her go. Andrea thought that he was probably thinking he never would… no 'might' about it. _

_Upon seeing that Sophia was okay, was alive, Daryl had stood, turning away from them, staring off into the distance towards the building as it burned. Andrea stood too and moved towards him, standing beside him. He was crying quietly, tears wearing a path down his cheeks. Tears looked foreign on his hard features, but he made no move to wipe them away. _

_Daryl's mouth dropped open for a moment, then he closed it, his face creased in grief. He licked his lips like a man dying of thirst before speaking…_

"How'm I s'posed to tell 'er?," Merle said, echoing the question that burned in Andrea's mind since Daryl had said it himself.

Andrea's eyes stung from tears that she refused to let fall. Now wasn't the time. Now was about survival. Now was about getting Sophia safe. Then would be about tears. Then would be about the truth. Now was just about distance, getting as far away as they could.

"You just tell her, Merle," Andrea said, "just be honest and tell her the truth."

_POP, POP, POP… a sudden rash of gunfire brought them down to the ground. It wasn't clear where he was shooting from, but either he had piss poor aim or he was purposefully missing them, shooting in some other direction as a warning or something. _

"_We have to move," Andrea gasped out, meeting Merle's eyes as he held a still panting and weak Sophia. Merle gave a short, sharp nod. They stayed low to the ground, moving quickly back towards the storage facility grounds, back towards where the others were waiting. As they moved into the open area that separated the woods bordering the storage facility grounds, another series of gunshots and this time the bullets were aimed right in front of them, bits of grass and dirt flying up as they hit the ground again, Merle covering Sophia with his body. Andrea caught Sophia's eye and it was clear the girl was in distress. She was bleeding from a cut on her forehead, a steady stream of blood going down the side of her face. Her face was screwed up like she might cry, but she didn't, instead her eyes stayed steady on Andrea's. _

"_It's going to be okay," Andrea mouthed at Sophia and the girl nodded slightly. There was doubt in her eyes though. They were trapped and they knew it, as long as that gun was trained on them, as long as Martinez was ready at the trigger, they couldn't go forward and they couldn't go back He had them right where he wanted them. _

"_Fuck this," Daryl muttered angrily, and before Andrea had even turned her head to look at him, he was gone. And not just gone, but up and running in the direction the gunfire came from as the pop, pop, popping continued, changing course from where the shooter had been lighting up the area in front and behind them to focusing on Daryl, tracking Daryl, intent on shooting Daryl. _

_He was giving them the opening they needed to get away. "Come on!," she hollered at Merle, scurrying forward even as he hesitated just briefly before finally following with Sophia._

"I left 'im… I ain't gonn' tell 'er tha'," Merle growled.

Andrea shook her head at him. "He's gone, Merle. You saw it as well as I did. Riddled… _riddled_ with bullets. He couldn't survive that. No more than Carol could've survived a freaking building falling in on her. There was nothing we could've done. Nothing you could have done."

Merle's eyes rose from where he'd been focusing on the road, and she saw him glance into the rearview mirror.

"What? What is it?," she said, looking behind her to where the others followed in their vehicles.

"Rick's flashin' his lights." Merle angled the car over onto the side of the road, stopping just as Carl reached the passenger side door, yanking it open before Andrea could even reach for the handle.

"Quick, come quick. My mom's having the baby. Dad says it's too soon."


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

The group had to split up. Lori was already in tears and groaning loudly when Merle, Andrea, and a dazed Sophia reached the side of the road next to Rick's vehicle. The woman had sagged back against the side of the car, letting it hold her weight, as her body wrenched with pain. Merle shuddered just looking at her.

She couldn't control her voice when the pain hit her. _No woman could._ And Merle knew immediately that they'd have to split up. Lori was a beacon for walkers right now. There was no avoiding it. They couldn't put everyone at risk for the sake of a few. He opened his mouth to say as much but T-Dog beat him to it.

"We can't all stay here, Rick, man, might as well put a target on our backs," T-Dog muttered emphatically.

Rick was frazzled, his hair mussed from being run through by his hands more times than Merle could count in just over a minute. His eyes were wide as he searched the eyes of the whole group, a decision had to be made and Rick was in no state to make it.

"Glenn," Merle barked, "you take Maggie and Michonne in my truck… T-Dog, grab 'Phia an' take 'er and Andrea in yer car. Let 'Phia lie down in the back. Girl's dead on 'er feet, can't be up an' at 'em right now."

"Where are you going?," Andrea blurted, confusion clear on her face.

Merle nodded at Rick, now with his hand on Lori's back, shushing her softly as she moaned piteously, and Carl, at his mother's side, fear and panic in his eyes. "Wit' them… we ain't got no doctor…" he paused, meeting Maggie's still-distraught, wet eyes, "an' I 'elped birth a litter once. Ain't no fuckin' midwife or shit, but I'm all we got righ' now."

"You're gonna help get the baby out?," Carl asked incredulously, his tone largely skeptical.

"Fuck, kid," Merle snapped, "ya got a better idea?"

"We don't have time to argue," Lori breathed out in between moans, her tone strained, "I need to lie down _now_… and Carl… Carl, I want you to go with T-Dog. I don't want you here for this."

"Mom…," Carl started to whine.

"Carl!," Rick said abruptly, "listen to your mother."

Merle crouched down in front of Sophia who was leaning against the front bumper of the car, her face pale, the blood on her forehead and the side of her face dried, her hair matted from it, her lids half-closed. He wondered if she was concussed or something, but he didn't know. She looked at him, her lips turned down.

"I want… want to stay with you," Sophia said softly.

He shook his head slightly. "Ya can't, girly. But don't worry, yer gonn' be jus' fine. Ya go wit' the others, go fer a ride, git somewhere's safe to sleep. And ol' Merle'll be back wit' ya by the time ya git up in the mornin'."

"My mom's dead…," she said quietly, her eyes downcast now.

"An' Daryl too," he confirmed, the words were hard to choke out, they felt strange and false on his tongue.

Sophia looked up again at him, her eyes shiny. "You're all I have now, Merle."

Unwittingly, the corner of his mouth turned up into a sad half-smile as he said, "yer all I need, 'Phia. Now go, be safe, an' I'll find ya."

He glanced over at Rick who was holding Lori up now at the base of the woods beside the road, waiting for him. He gave Sophia one last glance and nodded at her as T-Dog came to lift her up and carry her to the car.

"Merle…," Andrea said as Merle started towards Rick. He hesitated, glanced back to see her standing not far behind him. She took a step forward, her hands in her pockets, and the side of her mouth twitched slightly. "Be safe," she said, and leaned forward placing a gentle kiss on the side of his mouth, pulling back just slightly before he pursued and crushed his lips onto hers, letting desire pool in the pit of both of their stomachs as his heart sped up beneath his chest for a moment and he remembered just how long it had been since he'd felt the touch of a woman. It was over as quickly as it had begun, and she gave him a small, almost hopeful smile and a nod as she backed away a few steps before turning and running to the car where T-Dog, Sophia, and Carl waited.

As Merle helped Rick support Lori's weight and they moved into the woods, Rick said, "you sure you can do this?"

_Sure ain't worth shit 'ere, Sheriff, _Merle thought. But all he said was, "Yep. Let's go."

They found a spot deep in the woods, a clearing between the trees. Large enough for Lori to be comfortable – given the circumstances – but small enough that they could keep an eye on the whole area and make sure it was secure in case a walker heard the dinner bell they couldn't stop from ringing out of Lori's cries of pain. Originally, Merle had thought Rick should be the one between his wife's legs, and Merle could coach from her head. But it had quickly become obvious that under that arrangement, Rick would just end up passing out before anything substantial even occurred. Even now, as Merle settled himself down on the ground in front of Lori, Rick wobbled slightly, a bit dizzy on his knees at Lori's head, their hands gripped together tightly as Lori grunted and groaned.

"Hol' on now," Merle muttered, trying to get a better look in the moonlight, "lemme git my bearings."

Merle told her to push just as the snap of the underbrush in the woods told them they weren't alone. Rick left Lori's side as the first walker broke through some brush into the clearing. Merle was too busy with the task at hand to watch Rick dispatch the first one… then the second… but then there was a third, and a fourth, and suddenly walkers were spilling into the small clearing from all sides, all angles, and it was quickly becoming a situation out of control.

"Merle!," Rick hollered, and Merle snapped his head up and around just as a walker towered unsteadily over him and Lori. He roared up, grabbing for his knife and jamming it into the walker's skull before whipping around to the next. He turned his head to meet Rick's eyes for a moment before one of the walkers surrounding Rick sunk his teeth into Rick's arm. Rick screamed and tried to turn, but then a second walker was at his neck, ripping at the flesh. "Get… get her… out of here!," Rick yelled as he was dragged down to the ground by the groping and grappling mass of walkers surrounding him. Merle stabbed through the head of an approaching walker, leaving the hilt of his knife sticking out of its flesh as it fell, and grabbed Lori, hoisting her up as best he could with her in the midst of a grueling labor and him only having one hand.

"Rick…," she choked out, tears streaming down her face… tears of pain, tears of grief…

_Fuck, I ain't got time for tears,_ Merle thought angrily, angry at the situation, angry at life, angry at the godforsaken fucked up world they were supposed to call their own. He was more dragging Lori than she was running, and her groans were reduced to whimpers as they moved awkwardly.

"The… the… the ba-by," Lori stammered weakly as her legs gave out and he couldn't hold her weight any longer. They both stumbled to the ground in the middle of the woods, and she was panting from the effort of trying to run, close to choking on the pain of needing to push but holding back. She was still bare from the waist down, the length of her shirt just long enough to fall barely past her butt cheeks; he hadn't even remembered or noticed when he'd pulled her up and out of the nest of walkers that had descended on them in the clearing, he'd been too intent on getting her out of there. He moved between her legs and the baby was coming out. Lori grunted, silenced her own scream by biting down on her lower lip savagely, and the baby was sliding out gooey and slippery into the palm of Merle's hand as he maneuvered it to balance the tiny thing into the crook of his other arm.

It was tiny… covered in slimy guck... but beneath the guck was gray-tinged skin. He leaned down and tried to suck the goo out of the baby's nose, tried to clear the airway as best he could with one hand and a useless, still-laboring Lori as she delivered a mass of tissue and bloody crap onto the ground between her legs. Cradling the tiny baby in the palm of his hand, he put his ear to its chest.

He heard nothing. No thump, thump beneath the tiny chest. It was a girl… the tiny baby that couldn't weigh more than two pounds in his palm. She wasn't breathing. Her heart wasn't beating.

He hardly registered Lori's sobs as she struggled to sit up, reaching for her too-still daughter. The sound of shuffling feet, dragging footsteps in the woods behind them snatched his attention, and then he was jumping up again, grabbing Lori and pulling her to her feet even as she clutched her lifeless baby to her chest. He gripped her arm tightly, pulling her along with him until her body moved on its own instinctually, running alongside him, fleeing the imminent danger in the way that had suddenly become second nature, adrenaline coursing through her, keeping her upright and with him as they fled.

* * *

**A/N – Is anyone regretting that I'm back and writing again yet? The hard part about this story is that it's a different POV each chapter (and yes, there's currently still 5 POVs – in order Carol, Daryl, Andrea, Merle, and Sophia) so you only get to know what's happening to one person at a time when they're separated. This rides not over… but next chapter we'll find out what's going on with Sophia. Oh… and I feel bad about the baby, but for some reason I seem to enjoy killing Rick in my stories. I'm working on the next chapter but depending on how my day goes today it might not be posted until Monday. I'm going away this weekend and won't have computer access after tomorrow morning. Thanks for reading! **


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Four weeks. It had been four weeks since the storage facility building collapsed on her mom and Hershel and Beth. Four weeks since Daryl was shot by Martinez and left for dead – _how could we just leave him_ – back at the ruined storage facility. Four weeks since she'd fled the scene with Merle and Andrea and the others. Four weeks since she'd last seen Merle.

Sophia sat on the edge of a small dock, her legs dangling over, her toes just barely skimming the top of the water below. She was lost in thought… torn between trying to remember and trying to forget. So all she heard when Carl came up behind her and said her name was _'Phia_.

She wanted to tell him he couldn't call her that, only Merle could. But Carl hadn't even really called her that, he'd called her Sophia, like he always had. Her mind was cruel though, it played tricks on her. She didn't turn, didn't look back at him. He said her name again softly, "Sophia." Not a question, a statement.

She wanted to tell him to fuck off – that's what Merle would say. But Carl's parents were dead now too, and she just didn't have the heart to be mean to him when they were both dying inside anyway. So she didn't say anything as Carl came to sit down beside her, dangling his bare feet over the edge as well. His legs were longer; his toes and the balls of his feet and dipped and disappeared into the murky water below as she watched. She leaned over into him, put her head on his shoulder, and tried to remember why she still bothered breathing.

It was an old campground that they were calling their home now. Sophia imagined when they'd first arrived that it had been a place for kids to stay during summer camp, doing arts and crafts, swimming in the lake, playing horseshoes or whatever. She never went to summer camp back when she was a kid.

_Yer still a kid, girly_. It was Merle's voice. She shook her head.

When had twelve _– am I thirteen now? _– become so old, so ancient, that she couldn't even imagine herself being a kid anymore.

_You're dead Merle_, she thought, the words blank and empty in her mind.

_Ain't ya know me better than tha'? _

She huffed out a sigh and frowned. She wished it were true. She really, really, really wanted it to be true. A part of her – a small one, shrinking smaller with each passing day – wanted to believe that Merle was out there, still alive, and coming for her. He'd said he'd find her. She'd believed him.

She wasn't sure she believed him anymore.

Sophia was making her way through the camp now, after walking back from the lake with Carl. They hadn't spoken while they sat on the dock, and they hadn't spoken while they walked back to the campgrounds together. The silence hadn't been awkward though. It was comfortable, a blanket of quiet and peace that they let encompass and cover them both. It wasn't a long walk back and it was daylight, so it wasn't scary at all. _Not that I'm scared of anything anymore._ But when she'd felt Carl take her hand, lacing his fingers through hers, Sophia hadn't pulled away. She'd held his grip, and let herself feel the warmth of his palm against her own. He didn't say anything – not even goodbye or see you later – when they'd reached the edge of the campgrounds, and she'd released his hand just as smoothly he'd released hers – some kind of unspoken and unnecessary agreement between them both. But her heart had felt just the tiniest bit less heavy than it had when she'd gone down to the lake to be alone. It wasn't a radical difference, barely discernable amidst the heaviness that threatened to weight her whole body down, not even just her heart, but she'd felt it… just barely there, the slightest release of tightness and anger and despair. She wondered if someday it would go away entirely. If the loss of everyone she loved and held so dearly to her heart… if someday that loss would barely sting at all. She'd grow numb to it.

_Ya won't_, the Merle in her head said. _Ya won't need ta, girly…_ _'Phia, I'm comin'. _

_No. No, you're probably not. _

"Sophia," she heard Andrea call out to her and she turned to glance at the woman striding up to her alongside Michonne. They were friends – Andrea and Michonne – and Sophia liked them both. She liked all of the people still left in their group.

_But I loved my mom. I loved Merle. I probably would've loved Daryl too, because my mom and Merle both did. Of course, now I'll never know, will I? _The Merle in the back of her mind was silent on that one.

"You okay, sweetie?," Andrea asked, crouching down so that they were closer to eye level with each other. Michonne was a few yards away, her back to them, looking out and around at the surrounding woods, her hand always at the hilt of her sword, as if she was waiting – or even looking – for trouble.

She gave Andrea a shrug because she didn't want to talk about it. It wasn't Andrea's fault. It wasn't anyone's. Except maybe whoever it was that started this whole walker/zombie/geek/biter/stupid-walking-dead thing. She didn't want to talk to anyone though; she wasn't just singling out Andrea. She didn't want to talk to T-Dog, to Michonne, or to Glenn. She didn't even want to talk to Maggie, who was still all sorts of distraught over losing Hershel and Beth. And she didn't even want to talk to Carl, who she knew understood even without any words between them.

Andrea put her hand on Sophia's shoulder and gave her a small smile. "It's okay, sweetie… or it's not, I guess… but just know that I'm here for you, alright?"

Sophia was nodding as the arrow glided by, just inches from her head, ruffling her hair as it passed, piercing straight into Andrea's neck right at the center before Andrea even knew what hit her. The tip of it clearing all the way through, poking out of the back of Andrea's neck after sliding effortlessly in between two vertebrae and severing her spinal cord, the woman's body flopping suddenly and uselessly to the ground at Sophia's feet.

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**A/N – Round and round and round goes the spinning wheel of death, where it stops, nobody… I digress. And with that we now officially only have 4 POVs – Carol, Daryl, Merle, and Sophia – because I don't write for ghosts (well not in this story at least). Stay tuned… and THANK YOU FOR READING! Your reviews are wonderful and I'm so grateful that you take the time to let me know your thoughts on the story. **


	36. Author's Rant Interlude - NOT A CHAPTER

******This isn't a chapter. It was meant to be part of an A/N to the next chapter, **

**but then it grew so long and ranty that I made it its own entity.******

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**So I'm getting a lot of mixed reviews, and a bit of backlash of people saying they're just going to stop following my story. I understand. I've been hacking away at characters like I had nothing better to do, but there is actually a purpose to my madness. I don't know if you realize (and please correct me if I'm wrong), but for about 30 or so chapters, this story didn't have a single integral character die. There was no death, short of the death of villains. There were some close calls, yes, and even some will-they-won't-they-die stuff (Beth), but no one actually died. And the predecessor story, Unexpected Allies, also 20 chapters – no death except that of bad people that we wanted to die anyway. So if you put them together, that's like 50 chapters where no one dies during a zombie apocalypse. Not impossible, but maybe a bit implausible. Still I don't regret not killing anyone off sooner. But...**

**It was time for some death. It was time for some bleakness. Time for some "let's totally destroy everything and see if and how they rebuild". There were casualties. Hershel and Beth are actually dead. Carol is suspected as dead (the next chapter is her POV, she's not actually dead). Daryl is suspected as dead (Merle and Andrea saw him get shot, they saw him go down "riddled" with bullets… they got away with the rest while Martinez was distracted with Daryl so while they have their thoughts, they don't know what happened to him and looks can be deceiving). Rick is actually dead – and his death isn't meaningless (at least in my opinion) because the baby was stillborn. The baby would have been stillborn anyway. Rick died so that Lori lived. He died so that Merle could get Lori out of there. Terrible, yes. But Carl still has a mother, because Rick sacrificed himself for his wife, to give Merle and Lori enough time to get out. We don't know what's going on with Merle and Lori yet, but last time I checked they were very much alive. I do feel badly about the baby personally, but it's a zombie apocalypse. Also, in the timeline of this story, Lori isn't as far along as she was in the show when she had the baby. It was too soon. It was in the worst possible circumstances. Lori had to physically run away from danger in the middle of her birth. I don't actually enjoy killing fictitious babies, but it had to be done here. And even if there hadn't been a horde of walkers interrupting labor, and Rick hadn't been killed, the baby was still going to be dead. That is part of Lori's story in this fic - that's part of her destruction as a character and to see if and how she rebuilds. **

**And Andrea… she was dead the moment her and Merle kissed. I wanted that moment. That moment where they kiss and you realize that they're going to be together, that they're both letting their guard down and their "relationship" isn't going to be just in their own heads internally anymore. They were going to be together, that kiss was a promise of a future (whatever a future could be between the two of them, but yes, a future) But it's a relationship unrealized now. All they had was a kiss. And then Andrea is dead (and by an arrow… Daryl was NOT the shooter, although SPOILER it was his crossbow). How tragic is that? It's horrible. She's dead, and Merle's alive, and he doesn't even know yet, but we do. We know they never get to be together. And that sucks, but I wanted to break everything over these last few chapters. Total destruction. I wanted to put everyone in a bad place. Separate them. Put them in circumstances that quite plainly SUCKED and where they probably want to give up (hello Daryl running into the fray of gunfire to get Martinez, part of that was letting the others escape, but part of it was the fact that he believed Carol to be dead), and then figure out how they fix it. How they fix themselves. How they help fix each other. How they continue to live even despite the fact that they've lost people, they've nearly lost themselves, they're alone, they're desperate. Wow this was a long rant, and I'm making it an interlude "chapter" now, because I can't justify tacking it on as an Author's Note before the next chapter. **

**Anyway, sorry for the long rant, and thank you for reading. And thank you to those of you who said such nice things in your reviews. Everyone is entitled to their opinion and I appreciate everyone's honesty and criticisms. But I figured I'd address some of the questions. Thanks for reading and for those of you who decide to continue on with this story – I expect the next chapter will be posted on Monday. **

**Thank you!**


	37. Chapter 36

**A/N – Thank you all for your great comments! I'm sorry again for the rant. I just get so frustrated sometimes and I'm already overly critical of myself so the moment I get a bad review I get all shriveled up and obsess-y. But you've all made me feel much better and I appreciate it so much! Here's the next chapter… Carol. The next one will be up tomorrow or Wednesday. Thanks for reading! **

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Chapter 36

She was towards the back of the building by the time she realized there was a problem. It happened too fast for her to really even think about what was going on. One second, Carol was walking swiftly – but calmly, always calmly, forcing herself to stay calm because everything would be fine, it had to be fine – looking everywhere she could inside for Sophia, and the next, there was smoke. Smoke everywhere. Billowing, ridiculous amounts of smoke. And the temperature of the building spiked to something uncomfortable and she could hear the crackling of fire… it was in the walls, she could hear it, and as she moved toward the closest exit, the walls had started to melt, letting the fire travel, moving up to the ceiling, to the floor. And she was trapped.

Carol ran. She found the first room she could duck into. The bathroom. The sounds all around her were deafening. Her heart was in her throat as she realized that she was trapped… in a bathroom… in the midst of a burning building. Not just a burning building… a collapsing one.

She hid in the bathtub, flattening herself as much as possible to the bottom of the tub basin. And she prayed. Kind of. She squeezed her eyes shut and thought of Sophia – her precious girl. For the first time since she'd realized Sophia was missing, she truly hoped that Sophia wasn't inside the storage facility building. She truly hoped that Sophia was outside, somewhere far away from this fire, from the wreckage that was about to consume Carol and anyone else inside.

The sound of wood cracking and splitting lit up the air all around her, smoke filling the room, heat stifling and suffocating like a thick blanket over her face. Things were falling all over the place as the building bent and reshaped as it burned. A metal beam from above dropped down over the tub with a deafening boom and she flinched, wishing she could burrow right into the cast iron tub. She opened her eyes and everything was dark, the sounds still loud, but somehow muffled, she rolled to her back to see she was staring up in to darkness. No, not darkness. The metal beam… quite a few metal beams in fact, covering the tub haphazardly, and something else, but she didn't know what it was.

Later… when she literally dug her way out of the tomb that had somehow, miraculously managed to save her life, she'd realize that the shower curtain had become wrapped up with the beams and melted into them, and together the beams and the curtain had formed the shield that had protected her when the building finally gave into the fire, letting the fire consume it whole and then collapsing in on itself in a fiery, smoldering, hell of a mess.

The sun stung her eyes when she finally emerged from the wreckage. Her fingers and the sides of her hands were bleeding and raw in places. She'd burrowed her way out, forcing herself through whatever minute hole she could dig out in the mass of charred material and ash that had once been the storage building. Outside was calm… a beautiful day actually. And she was alone.

She called out their names… Sophia, Daryl, Merle, Rick, Andrea, Hershel. There was no answer. She walked around the wreckage, through the storage units, most of them still intact, although some were melted in places. She yelled out – but not too loudly – their names some more, searching for survivors. There were none she could find.

She was towards the front of the building, in the clearing just before the fence line and the woods beyond, when she saw it, red fabric fluttering slightly in the breeze. It was snagged toward the bottom of the fence line as if it had blown there and been caught in its clutches. The rag that Daryl always kept in his back pocket. She moved around the fence towards it, picked it up and stuffed it into her own back pocket before glancing around. The ground a few yards away was discolored… she crouched down. Dried blood mixed amongst the dirt and grass. Someone had lain there and bled before… _yes, there it is…_ more blood, a dried spot, a foot away… and another one after that. Lain there and bled before dragging or stumbling themselves deeper into the woods. She followed the trail cautiously.

Carol's feet shuffled as she walked. Her body was suddenly dead tired, and her eyes ached like all they wanted was to be closed. She didn't know how long she'd been trapped in the tub – _when did I last eat? I had been making peas… Sophia was missing… we never ate the peas… what happened to the peas? _She didn't know how much smoke she'd inhaled. There was a bump on her head where she'd clearly been knocked, but she didn't know if maybe one of the falling beams had struck her head or if she'd bumped it against the tub itself. Either way she was struggling to stay awake as she followed the trail.

What kept her moving was the blood… it was becoming less dried as she walked… she had to be getting closer.

What kept her moving was Sophia… the thought of her daughter, somewhere out there.

What kept her moving was Daryl… she hoped he'd found Sophia, that he was okay, that they were both okay. She knew between Daryl and Merle, they'd have moved heaven and earth to find Sophia and to keep her safe.

She stumbled, but righted herself before she fell. She realized she was crying as she walked. Was she in pain? Tears were streaming down her cheeks and she hadn't even noticed them, so intent was her gaze on the spots of blood guiding her.

She coughed suddenly, violently, doubling over with one hand on her bent knee, the other covering her mouth as she coughed deeply, her chest seizing with the effort of it. It stopped as quickly as it'd started; she straightened, pulled her hand away from her mouth and looked at it. Specks of blood covered her palm, a thick clot in the center. She wiped it on her dirt and soot covered jeans. Out of sight, out of mind.

Her eyes caught the deep red contrasting against the beige ground at her feet. This blood was wet, not dried, not sticky, but _wet_. She pushed past some bushes that blocked her way, not noticing the wet blood smeared on the bushes from the person who had pushed through them before her. And she was in a clearing, on the bank of a small brook that flowed silently in a valley below the short but steep bank.

Daryl was lying at the bottom of the bank, on his side, his hair covering most of the side of his pale, almost gray-tinged face, motionless, one hand outstretched in front of him as if reaching for the water, his fingers just grazing the brook as the water bubbled past. There was a smear of blood going down the river bank that Carol stood at the top of, where he'd clearly fallen or passed out and slid down the hill to where he now lay.


	38. Chapter 37

**A/N – So I'm a day later than I said I would, but it's been a rough week. Hope you like! Thank you for reading! And also I've used a lot of "movie magic" here so I apologize if it isn't accurate to what would happen in real life. I mostly just made stuff up and didn't do any research on anything. Also, the italics in the later part of the chapter was my attempt to sort of blend a kinda-sorta flashback to Carol's POV without having to actually switch POVs. Not sure if it worked. **

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Chapter 37

The first thing he felt was pain… pure, completely unadulterated pain like he'd never felt before in his entire life. And Daryl Dixon was no stranger to pain. But this… it was beyond anything else. His entire body was wracked by it from the moment he gained consciousness, even before he'd opened his eyes. It seemed to radiate from his abdomen, sharp stabbing pains in his stomach, spreading outward throughout the rest of him.

His eyes opened to a blinding brightness and it took a moment for him to find his bearings. The first thing he saw was Carol… she was sitting on the ground, her back against a wall not far from him, her feet flat on the floor, knees bent, and her head was turned as she stared out into something or nothing somewhere else in the room. One arm was resting on her knee, the fingers of her hand curled loosely gripping a gun so that she was more or less letting it dangle in her grasp.

He blinked, watching her, his vision still somewhat hazy. He considered making a sound, a movement… but his body seemed too occupied with the pain that it couldn't be bothered with anything else.

Carol's head turned, so that he could see her face, and her eyes were suddenly locked on his. "Daryl," she gasped, placing the gun on the floor and scooting across the floor to his side. "Oh Lord, Daryl, I thought I was going to have to shoot you…"

_Ain't I already shot? _The words were in his mind, but his mouth didn't want to cooperate. And then his lips were twitching up slightly, the faintest of smiles but she still saw it.

"You cracking jokes in your head, Daryl Dixon?," she muttered absently, her fingers ministering to his torso where he imagined at least one of his wounds was. Truthfully it was hard to tell, the pain was everywhere; there was nothing local about it that screamed 'Here! I'm injured here!', instead his whole body screamed of injury. Carol shook her head to herself, her eyes meeting his again and she smiled. The smile that made his heart beat a bit faster. The smile that broke him in ways he'd never before imagined actually wanting to be broken.

"It's been almost seven days," she said, "I didn't think you were going to wake up… I've been waiting cause I didn't want you to… to you know… and then turn. I didn't want you to turn."

_Seven days…_His brow must have furrowed or something, but somehow his face managed to give away confusion in an expression that Carol understood.

"I kept asking myself how long a person could survive without food and water, and I didn't know… I didn't know if you were ever going to wake up." She was kneeling at his side, her hands supporting her upper body, one by his head, and the other at his side, not far from where his own hand was curled up into his body. He was able to move a finger, to let it uncurl and extend, and just graze the tip of her middle finger. He was rewarded with that smile again and it was worth it.

It took pretty much all night, but eventually with Carol's help he was able to drink some broth and prop his upper body up slightly against the wall. He tried gulping the drink when she offered it, his throat was so raw and his insides had been empty for so long they were begging to be full, but she wouldn't let him. His slight frown in frustration had made her laugh slightly, but she made him wait fifteen minutes between sips.

Sometime in the middle of the night after he took a few more gulping sips of the lukewarm liquid, he met her eyes in the dim lighting and was struck by how beautiful she was to him. She was alive. She was here. He hadn't had time to think much in the moments after he had thought he lost her. Everything had all happened so quickly. He hadn't had time to really feel the effect that losing her – or thinking he had – had on him. He had been acting on adrenaline and impulse in the moments after the building collapsed, without thinking, just doing whatever needed to be done without regard to consequences. It occurred to him – now that the pain had lessened some and his raging mind was still trapped in his own uncooperative body – that he'd acted that way for most of his life. On impulse. Without regard to consequences. It was something he'd probably learned from his father and from Merle. Looking at Carol as her eyes stayed steady on his, as her hands tilted the cup so that he could swallow down the broth inside, he realized that he suddenly cared about consequences.

As she took the cup away, and rocked back slightly on her heels to straighten her posture, a worried expression crossed her face. His lower lip dropped open and he was trying to muster what lackluster energy he had to ask her what she was thinking, but she spoke first.

Her words were soft and reluctant, "and… what of Sophia, did you find her?" The words hung there a moment and then she rushed to fill the void, "I wanted to ask right away, as soon as you had woken up, but I was afraid to know. I wanted to know but I didn't want to know. Knowing is… I… but I think I'm ready to know now. And I'm asking because you can't really speak, you can't really _tell_ me but you can signal, and then at least… at least I'll know. Whichever way it goes, at least I'll know." Her words were a jumbled rush, but he felt the ache in her tone, and the fear in her eyes mentally destroyed him almost as badly as the bullets had physically done a week ago.

It was awkward and painful, but he nodded. It was small, but it was there; and she saw it. Tears filled her eyes, relief smoothing her creased features.

"She's with Merle then…," she confirmed, and he nodded again.

In the days that followed, Carol filled in many of the blanks in his mind. They were hiding out in one of the storage units as it had been the only place that she could safely drag Daryl when he had been unconscious.

Daryl came to understand the true weight of his injuries as he finally started to heal. He'd been shot five times, three clean wounds where the bullets passed straight through, but two of the bullets – one in his shoulder, and one in his leg – had jammed before passing all the way through. Carol had haphazardly managed to remove them while he was unconscious using tweezers and a knife, likely doing as much harm as good, but she'd managed it.

She didn't tell him everything though. When she spoke of something, a particular time or event during those blank days in his mind that she didn't want to share with him, she averted her eyes. When she did that, he knew she wasn't being entirely honest, that he wasn't getting the whole story, but he didn't push beyond what he had to. He inquired, and she answered how she answered – sometimes with the whole story, and sometimes with a slightly different version.

_She told him the sugarcoated version at times. She didn't tell him everything. She didn't tell him that he seized suddenly while she was trying to remove the bullet in his shoulder, that she lost the tweezers inside of him and had to search, her hands wedged and digging inside the small crevasse she'd made in his body with the knife, and that he was so still and motionless while she felt around desperately that she was sure he was dead. She didn't tell him that his heart had slowed to the point of stopping before she had managed to resuscitate him. And she didn't tell him that she hadn't known how to remove bullets or do CPR or tend his wounds and keep him alive for days while he was unconscious, except from what she had once seen on television. Memories of shows long passed had guided her hazily, keeping him in this world only by some crazy miracle that didn't make a lick of sense. She didn't tell him that he'd fevered and shook and had mini-seizures for half of the days he was unconscious and she honestly thought all her efforts were for naught. And she didn't tell him about the moments before he'd woken up. When she'd been sitting there contemplating what she'd do when he turned, if she'd be able to shoot him, and if she did – what then? She didn't tell him that she'd already decided the "what then". There were two bullets left in the gun she'd held loosely in her hand before he'd woken, there were two people in the storage unit… She didn't say any of those things, but he didn't need to hear them. _

He was a bad patient, but somehow Carol seemed to have a never-ending patience that both soothed and inflamed him as – slowly, infuriatingly slowly – he healed. She forced him to listen, forced him to slow down and let his body do what it needed to do even while his mind – and hers as well – wanted only to go, to leave this cursed storage facility that had kept them safe for so long before betraying them to Martinez, to find the others and reunite with them. He only wanted to see Carol and Sophia together again… that singular goal solidifying inside of him, becoming the focal point of his mind. It was the force that drove him through his healing, drove him toward mending his broken and battered body.

It took four weeks before they were ready to move on. And even then, he wasn't at his best, but they'd be alright. It was time to go. It was time to find the others. He stood there, in the very spot where he'd been when the storage facility building had collapsed, feeling the sun beat calmly on his back and he stared at the ruined building. Their time at the storage facility was finally finished. They needed to get weapons, they only had the one gun, and they never were able to find his crossbow.

"You ready?," Carol said, coming to stand beside him. He glanced at her side profile as she studied the pile of rubble that was once a part of their home.

"Yea," he said somewhat gruffly.

She turned away from him, turning around to walk back towards the car she'd found not far away and driven back for their journey. His hand shot out and he wrapped his fingers around her wrist stilling her as she glanced back to meet his gaze.

"I love you," he said, his words quiet and intent, "ain't never said tha' before, but I do."

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**A/N – So not really a cliffhanger… we already know that Carol loves him and we've long since read about Daryl's internalized love for her, but I really wanted the last sentence of this chapter to be his first spoken declaration of love. In the timeline of things, their leaving the storage facility is about a week after Andrea was killed. We're moving on to find out what's going on with Merle next. **


	39. Chapter 38

**A/N – I don't think I've ever written so long a chapter in a WIP before… hope you like! Since it's the weekend and Monday is a holiday, the next chapter probably won't be up until Tuesday or Wednesday. **

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Chapter 38

They buried _it_ - he forced himself to think of it as an _it_ and not a _her_ - on the top of a hill beside a weeping willow tree. That was where Lori wanted to do it. It was harsh but he hadn't even cared himself to think of burying it. It wasn't that he didn't _care_... it was a baby. He was an asshole, but he wasn't completely heartless. It was that he hadn't wanted to waste the time burying the baby when they'd have been better served finding the others. Finding Sophia.

But Lori was weepy and half-naked in the middle of nowhere and as hormonal as she could get, and he couldn't really do anything about any of that. What he could do though was help her do what she felt she needed to do. He could find a spot for it – in the sun beside that stupid ass tree – and he could give his tattered shirt to Lori to wrap the baby in. And he could dig a hole and stand and keep vigil while Lori placed it gently in the hole, and while she filled the hole back up, sniffling and steadfastly refusing to let him do it for her.

"I was going to name her Judith... you know, if it was a girl," Lori said softly, standing up and coming to stand beside him staring at the displaced earth that marked the grave. "We named Carl after my father... it seemed only fair to name the next one after one of Rick's parents. So Judith... or Jack. But I guess now I know it was Judith... she," her voice broke, "was Judith."

He wanted to tell her to shut the fuck up. It was cruel, and the inclination to do it bubbled up from somewhere inside of him that he hadn't realized even still existed since he'd found Sophia.

_Be nice_, it was Sophia's voice in his head that held his tongue. He swallowed thickly. He wasn't affected by all this… he wasn't.

_I'm not_, he thought stubbornly.

The Sophia in his head laughed softly, the sound of it echoing in his mind. Lying to himself was easy – he'd been doing it his whole life. But he'd never been able to lie to her.

Lori was still talking. He'd stopped listening, but he realized belatedly that it didn't matter. The woman needed to talk… she didn't really care if there was anyone to listen.

_She could probably use a hug,_ Sophia said from the recesses of his mind.

_Fuck tha', girly… Dixons ain't the huggin' type._

_That's just not true. _Even in his head she was stubborn, defiant, and every bit as much a pain in the ass as he always seemed to need her to be. Even in his head she made him proud. _You hug me plenty. _The thought resounded in his mind and he resisted the urge to actually scoff outwardly. He didn't want to broadcast that he was talking to his girl in his damn head now. Lori was probably crazy enough now; they didn't both need to lose their senses.

He wondered if and when he'd get to hug his girl again.

_Blondie-'ll keep 'er safe. _Even as he thought it he realized that he was half-hoping for a response. He wanted confirmation. He wanted the Sophia in his mind to agree.

She didn't respond. His mind stayed still and quiet even as he searched for the slightest ghost of a response. It didn't mean anything. He knew that. It wasn't real. It was all made up in his mind. Sophia was fine. She'd have to be. He'd know if she wasn't…

_Wouldn' I?_

"Merle?," Lori said and he realized that she'd stopped talking about the _it_ in the ground, and started moving away from the spot to head back down the hill. "Let's go find the others… I've got to get back to Carl," her mouth twisted slightly as she added, "and you've got to get back to Sophia and Andrea."

_Blondie. _They'd kissed. She was a pain in the ass too. How was it that these pains in the ass people kept worming their way into his life? He remembered a time when things were simple, when it was just he and Daryl… back when Merle was Merle and he didn't have to give a shit about anyone but himself, and Daryl if and when he thought of it.

_You like that I wormed my way into your life._ There she was.

And he did like it. He never would have thought he would have liked it, but there wasn't much use denying it now. He loved Sophia, that little girl was as close to a daughter as he was ever going to get, and he wouldn't have traded her for anything.

_Maybe you like that Andrea wormed her way in too… _It wasn't quite a statement, and it wasn't quite a question. He wondered if that meant that his subconscious didn't know one way or the other yet, or if it really was Sophia in his head and he really was batshit crazy.

He wasn't sure what this thing with Blondie was yet, but he didn't feel the urge to run away from it like he had with pretty much every other adult woman in his life. He'd liked the kiss. It'd been a good kiss.

Ahead of him Lori stumbled over a tree root in the ground, and he called out to her, "watch yer step there". She twisted her head around slightly to glance back at him, opening her mouth to speak before she suddenly collapsed into a heap where she'd been walking.

"Fuck," he cursed as he rushed to where she fell and crouched down checking for a pulse. It was thready but it was there. His sigh was akin to one of relief, and he almost thought he heard Sophia sigh as well.

He knew Lori had lost quite a bit of blood during the birth. He couldn't find any injury now though and he wasn't really sure what his best course of action was.

_I should jus' fuckin' go._ It wasn't an unwelcome thought… it was almost a valid option. He needed to find the others. Sophia was his priority. And really, she always had been. He never promised to keep Lori or none of the others from harm. But he'd promised Sophia – at the very least in his mind – more times than he could remember. And Sophia was all he had now as it was… and Andrea too, if he was honest with himself about it.

_Merle, _Sophia-in-his-mind said, the tone of the word scolding. _That's Carl's mom. You can't just leave her._

He didn't leave her. Lori was weak and exhausted, and she slept for days, waking up for short periods to drink a bit of water that he had waiting for her, or to chew a bite of food that he offered before going back to sleep. He kept watch on her, leaving when she slept occasionally for short periods just to get the essentials – water, whatever food presented itself, some pants so that Lori wouldn't have to lie there exposed anymore. Mostly he just waited, dying a bit inside with each passing day that he sat idle instead of searching for Sophia. He made snarky remarks in his mind to get her to answer him – as if she was really there. But she wasn't really; he knew that. And whenever he asked if she was alright, if she was safe; she never did answer him.

When Lori and he headed back out on the road, they'd spent a little more than a week alone together. Merle suspected that he wasn't much company. He hardly spoke to the woman except to push food or water at her. But she didn't seem to want to talk any more than he did.

It took almost three weeks before they had a solid lead on where the others were. In that time they'd long since exhausted the bullets they had left for Merle's gun, and they weren't able to locate anything to replace them in terms of weapons aside from a single knife. When they finally came upon the campgrounds, one of the cars that the others had driven off in was parked in the woods, not as hidden as it should have been – in fact, Lori noticed it before he had.

They were both eager, hurrying into the campsite, Lori practically busting at the seams at wanting to call out for Carl. He was glancing around the campgrounds, at the buildings as they passed them, looking everywhere, resisting the urge to scream Sophia's name. He didn't even notice anything amiss until Lori suddenly halted and squeaked slightly. He glanced at her first, her gaze focused on the clearing ahead of them. He looked and his heart stilled in his chest.

_Blondie. _

She was collapsed on the ground, a heap of a person, and he didn't realize he was moving towards her until he was actually suddenly crouching down at her side. She was pale, cold, rigid… dead for at least a day, maybe more, but he really wasn't familiar with the laws of body decay – at least not human bodies.

There was an arrow sliced through the center of her neck, jutting out the back still, and someone had been kind enough to put a bullet through her brain. There was no blood around the entrance wound on her head so at least she'd already been dead by the time they'd done it.

His mind was a jumble. He couldn't form a coherent thought, his hand touched Andrea's cheek.

_I'm sorry_, he heard in his mind, Sophia's voice soft.

_Is this why ya couldn' answer me!?, _he raged internally, _is this why? Are ya fuckin' dead too? Where the fuck are ya? _He heard nothing but his own reverberating thoughts. _Why the fuck cain't ya jus' fuckin' answer me?! _

Outwardly, his face showed nothing, he just crouched there, leaning down over Andrea's body, his hand still on her cheek, his eyes staring somehow both intently and blankly at her face. Later, he'd realize he was memorizing her features. He never would quite understand why he was compelled to do so.

He felt a hand on his shoulder as Lori touched him gently. "I'm sorry," she said, and the words broke his trance. He shot up off the ground, yanking his body away from her touch.

"Fuck if I even care," he snapped coldly. "Jus' a piece of ass, wadn't worth nothin'." The words were sour as he said them, lies reforming the walls that he had so often used in the past to keep everyone out, remnants of the person he used to be… before Sophia. Was there even a Sophia anymore?

"_Well So-phia!? Can ya fuckin' answer tha' one?! Are ya even there anymore?! __**Fucking answer me!**_"

He didn't realize that the words weren't only in his head anymore. He was yelling them, loudly, almost drunkenly, standing a foot away from Andrea's body, his head tilted back, screaming them at the sky as if he expected the heavens to open up and answer him. Lori was silent, letting him storm without intervention. She crouched down beside Andrea but he didn't notice, her fingers touching the arrow as she looked at it. If he'd looked, if he'd have been in any kind of mindset to look, he'd have known it was one of Daryl's.

"Well?!," he hollered, waiting for something, anything, it didn't matter what. Some kind of sign that someone was out there, that someone fucking cared enough to even be up there watching, a crack of lightening to shoot from the clouds and strike him down right there even, it didn't fucking matter.

"Looking for answers, asshole?"

Merle spun, dimly recognizing the man approaching him and Lori as Martinez, Daryl's crossbow in hand, aimed at them, his finger poised at the trigger. Lori had stood up and was at Merle's side. Without even realizing he was doing it, he stepped forward and pushed her behind him.

Martinez was smiling smugly.

"You remember me?," he said, one eyebrow raised cockily.

"Martinez," Merle growled, "governor's man."

Martinez nodded slowly, "well yea… I suppose that's true… but I'm not talking about who I am now. I wanna know if you remember me from _before_."

Merle didn't speak, but it didn't matter because Martinez kept going.

"I didn't recognize you, you know, at first. Back at the gun place, when the governor ran through your little group, I didn't place you then. But I know you now. Sure as shit I do."

Merle barely registered Lori's movement at his back; she had stepped over and back behind Andrea's body and crouched down. Martinez didn't seem to notice as he continued to prattle on.

"I asked you a question, Merle Dixon," Martinez muttered suddenly, angry that Merle's attention had wandered, "do… you… remember… me?"

Merle's hand went to his chin, his fingers idly stroking there in what he assumed appeared to be a relaxed manner – even though honestly he was anything but relaxed.

"Do… I… remember… you?," he said absently as if he was really searching the corners of his mind.

"Did I stutter?," Martinez snapped angrily, "just fucking answer the question you piece of shit." He didn't wait for Merle's answer though, "you fucking killed my kid brother, you backwoods, dumbshit, fuck-up. You should really aim to remember the people whose lives you ruined… hell, maybe there's been so many you couldn't remember even if you did give a flying fuck about it. But you don't give a flying fuck about anything, do you? Do you?!"

Merle opened his mouth, but Martinez didn't stop.

"But that little girl…," Martinez was nodding, his smile vicious, "you care bout that little girl, and her dead ass mother, and your dead cunt of a brother, and clearly that good for nothing gash over there," he nodded towards the body before adding, "I got lucky with that one. I was aiming for the girl. I'm two for three, Merle… three for four if you give me the gash, and I'm going for your girl next. You can count on that. Nothing you can do about it now. You're about to be too dead to even do dick about dick."

Merle was only half-listening; his mind still stuck on the killed my kid brother part. He'd done a lot of shit in his life… but killing people had never really been his thing - leaving them battered, broken, and bloody maybe, and leaving for dead had happened occasionally, but not often enough that it didn't at least give him pause. There was only one instance that really stuck in his mind though, probably because it hadn't been like any of the others, it hadn't been a fight, it hadn't been intentional… he couldn't remember now what he'd been on, but he'd been on something strong, drunk too, and he shouldn't have been driving. But he never did care much for the law so he drove anyway; he was almost home when he'd passed out at the wheel. He didn't wake up until the cops and ambulance people were in his face screaming at him.

"Jeremy Martinez," Merle remembered, the words quiet under his breath and spoken right in the middle of Martinez's tirade, but somehow Martinez still heard it.

"Good," Martinez said through gritted teeth, aiming the crossbow better as he said it, "I wanted you to remember him before you died, I wanted his name to be the last thought on your mind."

Merle was ready to move, as soon as the trigger depressed the whole way, as soon as the catch released and the arrow let go… he was ready. He didn't know if he'd make it, but he'd be damned if he wouldn't try.

_Merle_, he heard Sophia in the back of his mind, _I love you. No matter what. _

The gunshot reverberated around him but he hardly noticed it as Martinez's face went surprised and blank at the same time, a small black hole blooming suddenly on his forehead, his finger too far on the trigger to stop now as the catch released, and Merle dropped to the ground instinctively. From the ground he watched as Martinez crumpled, his grip lost on the crossbow as it fell to the ground, Martinez's body just a second behind.

"Well I had had enough of that," Lori said calmly as she stood up from where she'd crouched earlier, and Merle whirled his head around awkwardly from where he lay on his stomach to look at her shocked. In her hand was Andrea's gun, which he hadn't even noticed had still been holstered at her hip, and Lori was checking the rounds. "Would you look at that," she muttered absentmindedly, "she only had the one bullet left."

She glanced at him then, her eyes meeting his as he started to stand up, and she continued blandly, "do you think we could take a break from this we're always in peril and everyone's gotta die crap? Because I'm getting really sick of it."


End file.
